All language subtitles for [SubtitleTools.com] The.Ninth.Gate.1999.2160p.4K.BluRay.x265.10bit.AAC5.1-[YTS.BZ]

- It's an impressive collection.

You have some very rare editions here.

Are you sure you want to sell them all?

- They're no use to father, not anymore .

Not since he's been this way.

His library was his whole world.

Now it's just a painful memory.

- Unbearably painful.

- I understand.

Well, at a rough preliminary estimate,

you have a collection here worth around $600,000.

- 600,000? - Yes, or thereabouts.

I've picked out one or two volumes

that merit special attention.

This Persiles, for example, is important.

I'd hang on to that.

It will never depreciate. It's a good investment.

- Valuable? - Very valuable.

As for this Hypnerotomachia Di Poliphili

by Colonna, Venice 1545,

I'm sure I could find you a buyer,

but I wouldn't let the rest go for less than $500,000

under any circumstances.

It may take a month or so to place them, so in the meantime,

I advise you to be patient.

- A month? - Yes, a month or two.

It depends on how much of a hurry you're in.

You see, more hurry, less money.

- Of course.

- Well, that's my advice anyway.

I'm sure you wouldn't want to rush things,

but please feel free to consult another expert,

and if you have any questions, you know where to reach me.

Incidentally, this four-volume edition of Don Quixote

is quite nice but not particularly valuable.

Now, I could take it off your hands right away.

Hmm. How much were you thinking of?

- Oh, I couldn't go more than 4,000,

4,200, tops. - Fine.

- You here? - Hello, Witkin.

- You didn't waste much time.

- Listen, there's a small fortune in there, help yourself.

- You're a vulture, Corso. A vulture.

- Who isn't in our business?

- You'd stoop to anything.

- For a Quixote by Ibarra?

You bet I would. - Unscrupulous.

Thoroughly unscrupulous. - Happy hunting.

- I just got off the phone with Witkin.

He's spitting blood.

- Really? What's his problem?

- He said you're a double-dealing, money-grubbing bastard.

Thought he had that deal sewed up.

He said you queered his pitch.

- Well, he should've been quicker off the mark.

May 1? - Sure.

And he said your evaluation was way over the top.

Got those people coming out in a rash.

Now they're asking twice what those books are worth.

horns blaring outside

Let's face it, you screwed him.

That's what it's called. - That's what it's called?

Yes.

- He also said that you snatched the Don Quixote.

You bought a Don Quixote 1780, all four volumes.

Son of a bitch. Fantastic.

Fantastic. You are the best.

- That client of yours, the Swiss,

you think he'd still be interested in this edition?

- I have Witkin on my ass,

I already told him I had no part of this operation.

- Except 10%.

- Twenty percent. The Swiss was my client.

- No deal.

- Fifteen, for my children's sake.

- You don't have any children.

- I'm still young, give me time.

- Ten.

- Hey, man, how you doing?

How about a couple of bucks? - Not today. Not today.

Hey.

- And earlier, in 1580, in De La Demonomanie Des Sorciers

by the Frenchman, Jean Bodin.

Bodin was probably the first

to attempt to establish a system,

if the term system may be applied to the Middle Ages,

for classifying the contemporary perceptions of evil.

In Bodin, we find one of the first definitions

of the word witch.

And I quote,

"A witch is a person who,

though cognizant of the laws of God,

endeavors to act through the medium of a pact

with the devil."

To assist them in their work, many witches kept familiars.

That is to say, creatures such as cats or toads,

in which supernatural spirits

or demons were thought to reside.

For those of you ladies and gentlemen

who wish to delve more deeply

into the controversial subject of witchcraft,

a great deal of relevant information may be found

in the following works,

Nicolas Remes' Daemonolatreiae Libri...

and Compendium Maleficarum by Francesco Maria Guazzo.

I see you were stimulated by my little talk, Mr. Corso.

- Did I snore?

- Well, it's nice of you to ask.

No. Not that I noticed.

Shall we go?

Don't you sleep nights?

- Like a baby. - Strange.

I'd have bet a brace of Gutenberg Bibles

you spend half the night with your eyes peeled.

You're one of those lean, hungry,

restless types that put the wind up Julius Caesar.

Men who stab their friends in the back.

Not, I suspect, that you have many friends,

do you, Mr. Corso?

Your kind seldom does.

- That makes two of us.

- You're right, of course.

Your friendships don't concern me in the least.

Our relations have always been strictly commercial

and that's the way I like it.

The professional and the personal

should be mutually exclusive.

- Listen, I came here to do some business,

not shoot the breeze.

If you wanna expound your personal philosophies,

write another book.

- You don't like me, do you?

- I don't have to like you.

You're a client and you pay well.

- You're privileged, Mr. Corso.

Very few people ever set foot in here.

This is my private collection.

Some bibliophiles specialize in gothic novels,

others in books of hours.

All my own rare editions have the same protagonist.

The Devil.

- May I take a look? - Yes.

It's why I brought you here.

Beautiful, aren't they?

The soft sheen, the superb gilding.

Not to mention the centuries of wisdom they contain.

I know people who would Kill for a collection like this.

The Ars Diavoli.

You'll never see as many books on the subject anywhere else

in the world.

They're the rarest, the choicest editions in existence.

It's taken me a lifetime to assemble them.

Only the supreme masterpiece was missing.

Come.

- The Nine Gates of the Kingdom of Shadows.

- You're familiar with it? - Yes. Venice, 1666.

The author and printer, Aristide Torchia,

was burned by the Holy Inquisition

together with all his works.

Only three copies survived. - One.

- Catalog lists three copies surviving in private ownership.

Fargas, Kessler, and Telfer. - It's true.

You know your business, but you're mistaken nonetheless.

According to my own research, only one is authentic.

- Well, three are known.

- That's the trouble. - Where'd you get it?

- I bought it from Telfer. - Telfer?

- Yes, he finally sold it to me.

The day before he killed himself.

- It's good timing.

- Silentium est aureum.

- "Silence is golden."

- Precisely.

Ever heard of the Delomelanicon?

- I've heard of it, yes.

It's a myth, isn't it?

A book reputed to have been written by Satan himself.

- No myth.

That book existed.

Torchia actually acquired it.

The engravings you are now admiring

were adapted by Torchia from the Delomelanicon.

They form a kind of satanic riddle.

Correctly interpreted with the aid of the original text

and sufficient inside information,

they're reputed to conjure up

the Prince of Darkness in person.

- You don't say.

- Are you a religious man, Mr. Corso?

I mean, do you believe in the supernatural?

- I believe in my percentage.

Don't you get dizzy standing there?

What is that you want from me, Balkan?

- I want you to go to Europe and investigate.

The other two copies are in Portugal and France.

I want you to find some way of comparing them with mine.

Every page, every engraving, the binding, everything.

I'm convinced only one is authentic, I wanna know which.

- That could be an expensive trip.

- That's to get you started.

Spend what you need.

- What if I find that your copy's a forgery?

- It's quite possible.

- Really? It doesn't appear to be.

Even the paper sounds kosher.

- Even so, there's something wrong.

- You mean the devil won't show up?

- If all three copies turn out to be bogus or incomplete,

your work will be done.

If, on the other hand, one of them turns out to be genuine,

I'll finance you further.

I want you to get it for me, at all costs, never mind how.

"Never mind how" sounds illegal.

- Wouldn't be the first time you've done something illegal.

- Not that illegal. - Hence the size of the check.

Do a good job, I'll double it.

- There's gotta be something wrong with it

if you're letting it out of your hands.

- I have the utmost faith in you, Mr. Corso.

There's nothing more reliable than a man whose loyalty

can be bought for hard cash.

- Good morning, I'm Dean Corso.

I'm terribly sorry to disturb you at a time like this.

It would be very helpful, ma'am,

if you could tell me what you know about this book.

- Isn't this one of my husband's books?

- Right.

It was in his collection

until very recently he sold it to a client of mine.

I'm trying to authenticate it.

- He sold it you say?

How strange. This was one of his most treasured possessions.

- He never mentioned the sale?

- No. It's news to me.

Who bought it?

- A private collector.

- May I know his name?

I'm afraid that's confidential.

- I suppose he has a bill of sale?

- No problem there. - Is this your job?

Authenticating rare books?

- And tracking them down, yes. - You're a book detective.

- Kind of.

Do you recall when

and where your husband acquired this book?

- In Spain. We were vacationing at Toledo.

Andrew got very excited.

He paid a great deal of money for it.

He was a fanatical collector.

- So I gather.

- I'll show you.

- It's impressive.

- Andrew used to spend many hours in here.

Too many.

- Did he ever try it out?

- I don't understand.

- The book.

Did he ever use it

to perform some kind of ritual intended to produce

a supernatural effect? - Are you serious?

- Yes, absolutely.

- Andrew was a trifle eccentric, Mr. Corso,

but he wasn't insane.

It's true he'd been acting strangely those last few days.

He shut himself up in here.

He seldom emerged except for meals.

That morning, I was awoken by the screams of the maid.

He'd hanged himself.

Whatever he was up to,

I certainly can't see him chanting mumbo jumbo

or trying to raise the dead.

- The Devil, Mrs. Telfer.

This book is designed to raise the Devil.

Sic luceat lux.

"Thus, let the light shine."

- Son of a bitch, where did you get this?

- Balkan.

He wants me to research it.

- Balkan owns a Nine Gates?

- Recently acquired from the late lamented Andrew Telfer.

- Trust Balkan.

What does he need you for?

I don't suppose he plans to sell it.

- He wants me to compare it

with the other two surviving copies

which are in Portugal and France.

So, I'm off to Europe. - Compare it?

- Yeah.

Only one of the three is authentic he says.

- Well, this looks genuine enough.

Christ, it's gotta be worth a million.

Take care of it. - That's why I'm here.

I need you to stash it for me.

Because I'm starting to see things.

- Like what? - Uninvited visitors,

unfamiliar faces.

I don't trust anyone, not even Balkan.

Come to think of it, I'm not even sure I trust you.

- You know I wouldn't screw you

unless there was a good reason,

money, women, business.

Other than that, you could relax.

- I'll pick it up on my way to the airport.

- Sure.

These engravings are terrific.

- Or horrific, whichever. - Sensational.

Absolutely sensational.

- May I come in? - Mm-hmm.

Please, sit down.

- I've come to talk business.

- Mm-hm.

- Yesterday, when you came to see me about that book,

I was too surprised to react as I should've done.

I mean, it really was one of Andrew's favorites.

- So you said. - I'd like to get it back.

- That could be a problem.

- Not necessarily. It all depends.

- On what? - On you.

- I don't understand, Mrs. Telfer,

the book is not mine to dispose of.

- You work for money, I take it?

- What else?

- I have a great deal of money.

- I'm very happy for you. - You could stage a theft.

I imagine your client is well insured.

- I'm a professional, ma'am.

- A professional mercenary.

Mercenaries work for the highest bidder.

- I make a living. - I could throw in a bonus.

- This has happened before someplace.

- I know, in the movies. - And she had an automatic

in her stocking.

- No automatic.

- Would you like a drink? - Why not?

Okay, where is it?

Where's what? - Don't fuck with me!

- I thought I already did.

Ow!

Wait. No, no, wait, wait, wait.

Take it easy.

Wait.

- You've reached Bernie's Rare Books.

Please leave your message after the beep.

- Bernie, you there?

Pick up.

Bernie?

Give me a minute, I won't be long.

You can take me onto Kennedy.

- No problem, sir.

Bernie?

Bernie!

Oh Jesus.

Bernie?

- No problem.

- Stop.

Stop at that phone booth.

Pull over. - No problem, sir.

- He isn't available at this time.

May I know who's calling? - Dean Corso.

- Would you like to leave a message?

- No, I have to talk with him at once.

- Oh, I'm afraid he's in transit.

If you prefer to give me your number,

I'll have him return when he checks with us.

- No. I am in a phone booth.

It's an emergency.

I have to speak with him right now.

Right now, do you hear me? Right now.

- One moment.

Are you there, Mr. Corso? - Yes.

- /'ll patch you through.

- Mr. Corso, what have you got for me?

- More than I bargained for. - What do you mean?

- I mean I quit.

I wanna return the book. Where are you?

- /'m disappointed in you, Mr. Corso.

You've never let me down before.

- Well, this is different.

You remember Bernie Ornstein?

- Ornstein? - Yeah.

- The dealer? - I gave him your book

to stash for me, and now he's dead.

Murdered. - Because of the book?

- What else?

- Well, look, ] never said it would be easy.

If it's a question of money-

- It isn't the money. I want out.

- This matter means a great deal to me, Mr. Corso.

I'm not an ungenerous man, you know that.

Proceed as arranged

and you can tack another zero onto your fee.

- Final call for passengers traveling to-

- Hey, where are you, Balkan?

Balkan?

Pyp ceniza

- Buenos Tardes.

- Do you speak English? - Yes, I do.

- I would like to get your opinion on this.

- What a habit for a bookbinder.

- The Nine Gates, superb edition.

Very rare. The Telfer copy.

- Yes.

You used to own it, right?

- We used to, yes. - Sold it.

- We sold it when the opportunity presented itself.

- It was too good to- - Too good to miss.

An excellent sale. - An excellent buy.

Impeccable condition. - Impeccable.

Are you the present owner? - No. A client of mine.

- I would never have believed she would part with it.

Never.

- She? - Mrs. Telfer.

- Uh-huh.

I understood that it was Mr. Telfer that had bought it.

- He paid for it.

- It was Mrs. Telfer who made him buy it.

- He didn't seem particularly- - Interested.

- An exceptional specimen.

- Do you think it could be a forgery?

- Forgery?

You hear that, Pablo?

- I took you for a professional.

You speak too lightly of forgeries.

- Far too lightly.

- Forging a book is very expensive.

Paper of the period, right inks.

Too expensive to be profitable.

- Still, it can be done? - Of course.

It requires a great skill, but, yes, it can be done.

- Do you think that could be the case here?

- What makes you ask?

- My client wishes to satisfy himself

on the book's authenticity.

His name is Balkan. Boris Balkan of New York.

- All books have a destiny of their own.

- And a life of their own.

Mr. Balkan is a celebrated collector.

He's no fool.

He must know this book is authentic.

- We know it. - So must he.

- We've had this book for years.

- Many years.

- And ample opportunity to study it thoroughly.

The printing, the binding are magnificent examples

of 17th-century Venetian craftsmanship.

Finest rag paper, resistant to the passage of time.

None of your modern wood pulp.

- Watermarks, ink, typefaces.

If this is a forgery,

or a copy with missing pages restored,

it's the work of a master.

- A master. - Yes.

Have you studied the engravings?

They seem to have some underlying significance.

- But of course.

Here, for example,

this one could be interpreted as a warning.

"Venture too far," it seems to say,

"And danger will descend on you from above."

These type of books often contain little puzzles.

- Especially in the case

of such an illustrious collaborator.

- Collaborator?

- You could not have proceeded very far

in your research, senor.

Here, look close.

Now, you see?

Only six of the nine engravings

were signed by Aristide Torchia.

- Yes. And the other three?

- This is one of them.

Who's lcf?

- Think.

- Lucifer?

- Very perceptive of you, senor.

Torchia was burned alive because he wrote this book

in collaboration with someone else.

- Come on. You can't honestly believe-

- The man who wrote this book did so in alliance

with the Devil and went to the stake for it.

- Even hell has its heroes, senor.

- I've seen you before. - Have you?

- Yes.

- Are you traveling in this car?

- The next one. - The sleeper.

I travel on the cheap.

- You're a student? - Something like that.

I like trains.

- Trains I'm on? - Just trains.

- What's your name? - Guess.

- Green eyes? - That'll do.

- What's yours? - Corso.

- Strange name. - Italian. It means run.

- You don't look like a runner to me.

More the quiet type.

- Well, give my regards to Balkan.

Tell him I'm doing my best.

- Balkan? - Nevermind.

- See you around. Maybe. - I wouldn't be surprised.

- Si? - Yes, Dean Corso, Mr. Fargas.

- Corso?

Oh, yes. Please, come in .

- Thank you.

- Please.

Home sweet home.

You won't say no to a brandy, I take it?

- Thank you very much.

Thank you.

What handsome glasses.

- They're the only ones I have left.

- Must've been a beautiful place.

- It was.

But old families are like ancient civilizations.

They wither and die.

There they are, 834 of them.

A pity you didn't see them in better times.

I used to have 5,000.

But these are the survivors.

- So, this is the Fargas collection?

Not quite as I imagined it, I must say.

- C'est la vie, my friend.

But I keep them in perfect condition.

Safe from damp, light, heat, rats.

I dust and air them every day.

These are the occult.

What do you think?

- Not bad. - Not bad indeed.

At least ten of them are extremely rare.

Here. Dictionnaire Infernal .

First edition, 1844.

Leonardo Fioravanti's Compendio de i Secreti, 1571.

And there it is.

In perfect condition.

It has traveled the world for three and a half centuries,

yet it might've been printed yesterday.

- Is it in order?

I mean, you haven't detected anything unusual?

Unusual? No.

The text is complete, the engravings too.

Nine, plus the title page, just as the catalog states,

just like Kessler in Paris and Telfer in New York.

- Yes. lt isn't the Telfer anymore.

- Telfer killed himself. - Oh.

- But he sold his copy to Boris Balkan first.

- Ah, Balkan.

If he sets his heart on a book,

no price is too high.

Not that I would ever sell this one, not at any price.

It's strange that he should've sent you here

if he already had...

You have it here?

May I see it?

Ah, superb.

Beautiful.

Identical.

Two of the only three to escape the flames reunited

for the first time in over three centuries.

Ah, yes.

Look at this slight imperfection here.

The damaged "S".

The same type, the same impression.

Ah, incredible.

And you see, if it weren't for this slight discoloration

on the back of your copy, no one could tell them apart.

- If you don't mind,

I'd like to stay for a while and examine them in detail.

- What are you looking for, Mr. Corso?

- I'm not quite sure.

- Some books are dangerous.

Not to be opened with impunity.

- That's very true.

I'll be damned.

Hello again.

You didn't say you were bound for Sintra.

- Neither did you.

- What are you doing here?

- Reading. - I can see that.

- And bumping into people unexpectedly.

- Yes, unexpectedly is right.

- Are you on a business trip?

Is that why you always carry that thing around?

- Is this part of your course? - My course?

- "Winning Friends and Influencing People."

You said you were a student.

- Did I?

So I am. In a way.

I like books. Do you?

- Have you been traveling long?

- A while. - Mm-hmm.

I don't suppose you ever travel by motorbike.

- Senor?

Excuse me, Senor .

- For me? Are you sure? - Si, Senor. Si, Senor.

- Yes? - Mr. Corso?

- My God. How'd you find me?

- Made any progress? - Progress?

Yeah, you could call it that.

- Well? - Look, I can't talk here,

I'm in the lobby.

Let me call you back.

- Where are you? - Never mind that.

Get them to transfer it to your room, I'll wait.

- All right.

Senor, senor, pardon me.

Could you send this up to my room, please?

- Yes. - Thank you very much.

Still there? - Yes.

- All right. I've examined the Fargas copy.

It's authentic enough, at least it looks that way.

It's like yours, but there are discrepancies.

- Discrepancies?

- The engravings, they're not identical.

It's, like, keys in different hands,

doorways open in one copy and bricked up in the other.

And there's another thing.

- Yes. Yes, go on.

- Ones that differ aren't signed "Torchia",

they're signed "LCF".

Still there?

- Listen, where are you, anyway?

- ! must have that copy, Mr. Corso.

Get it for me.

- The old man wouldn't sell it to save his life.

He said as much.

- Did he?

- Hello? Hello?

Just a minute.

Yeah.

What time is it? - Early, but you have to go.

- Go? Go where? - The Fargas place.

- I've already seen Fargas.

- I think you should see him again.

- What is this, some kind of practical joke?

Who are you?

What do you know about Fargas?

- Get dressed. I'l wait for you outside.

Don't bother. He isn't there.

- Oh, really? Then where is he?

- Over there.

- God almighty.

- Wanna get inside?

- I had thought about it, yes.

You wait here.

Shit.

- Well? Did you find it?

- You know, it's come to my attention

that you know too goddamn much.

Why do you keep following me around?

Who are you working for?

- You're wasting time asking all these questions.

Better get out of here.

There's a flight from Lisbon to Paris at noon.

We should just make it.

- What's with the "we"?

- There are two of us, aren't there?

- What happened back there?

- The old man caught someone stealing, I guess.

- What do you guess happened to him?

- He drowned.

- With a little help from who?

- He's dead. Who cares? - I do.

I could easily wind up the same way.

- Not with me around to look after you.

- Oh, I see. You're my guardian angel then.

- If you say so.

- Someone's playing a game with me.

- Of course, you're a part of it.

And you're getting to like it.

- Hello, Gruber.

- Hello, Mr. Corso.

Delighted to see you again.

We don't have any vacancies,

but I'm sure I'll be able to organize something.

- Thank you very much, Gruber. - Thank you, sir.

- Monsieur. - Bonjour, madame.

- Good afternoon.

I'm Dean Corso. I have an appointment with Baroness Kessler.

- This way.

You have 30 minutes.

- Yes? - Monsieur Corso.

- Oh, yes, Mr. Corso. Come in.

I've heard a great deal about you.

- Oh. Nothing good, I hope.

- You hope right.

Merci, Simone.

- Well, I'm reassured, Baroness, because in my trade,

to be spoken well of can be professionally disastrous.

My God.

- Yes, there it is.

The Kessler collection.

- You know, I know your catalog almost by heart.

- Strange we haven't met before.

Your name is a byword among dealers and collectors.

But I imagine you know your own reputation

better than I do .

- Yes, well, it does keep the wolf from the door,

so to speak.

I'm sorry, Baroness, were you in the middle of something?

- My latest work,

The Devil: History and Myth.

A kind of biography.

It will be published early next year.

- Mm-hmm. Why the Devil?

- I saw him one day.

I was 15 years old and I saw him as plain as I see you now.

It was love at first sight.

- You know, 300 years ago,

you'd have been burned at the stake

for saying something like that.

- 300 years ago, I wouldn't have said it.

Nor would I have made a million by writing about it.

- Yeah.

- What is it you wish to discuss, Mr. Corso?

- There's a book in your collection

I'd like to examine, if possible.

It's the book of The Nine Gates of the Kingdom of Shadows.

- The Nine Gales.

An interesting work.

Everyone's been asking me about it lately.

- Is that so? - Follow me.

- Do you truly believe in the Devil, Baroness?

- Enough to devote my life and my library to him.

Not to mention many years of work.

Don't you? - Almost.

- This book demands a certain amount of faith.

- Yes, well, I'm afraid my faith

is in short supply these days.

- I know this work extremely well.

I've studied it for years.

- Do you have any doubts about its authenticity?

- None whatsoever. - You're sure?

- My knowledge of this book is profound.

I wrote a biography of its author.

- Yes, I've read it.

Aristide Torchia, The Devil's Apprentice.

Excellent work.

- A courageous man.

He died for the sake of this very book in 1667.

While studying the black arts in Prague,

he acquired a copy of the dread Delomelanicon.

This is Torchia's adaptation of that work

which was written by Lucifer himself.

After they burned him at the stake,

a secret society was founded to perpetuate its memory

and preserve its secrets.

The Order of the Silver Serpent.

- A sect?

- A kind of witches' coven.

For centuries, they have met to read from this book

and worship the Prince of Darkness.

Today, they have degenerated into a social club

for bored millionaires and celebrities

who use its meetings as an excuse

to indulge their jaded sexual appetites.

I, myself, belonged to the Order.

Years ago, but time is too precious at my age.

Besides, my orgy days are over.

I told them to go to the Devil .

- You mean it's all about sex or-

- Of course not.

They are under the illusion that they owe their money

and success to membership in the Order.

- Do they still meet?

- Every year on the anniversary of Torchia's death.

They'll be meeting very soon now.

- And you say they read from this book.

- Not this one.

I took mine back when Liana Telfer acquired

the one in Toledo.

Victor Fargas is an unbeliever.

He has always refused to participate,

so naturally they use the Telfer copy.

Not that it has ever worked.

- Did Andrew Telfer ever take part?

- Telfer? No, no.

That creature Liana married him for his money.

She comes of an old and aristocratic French family,

the Saint-Martins, but they were penniless.

So Liana used his dollars to restore her chateau

and buy The Nine Gates.

If he ever finds out what his wife gets up to

at these gatherings, he'll probably kill himself.

- Funny you should say that, Baroness.

He hanged himself last week.

- Who exactly are you working for, Mr. Corso?

- My client's name is irrelevant, Baroness.

I'm simply trying to authenticate his copy,

which is the one Telfers sold him before he died.

- How stupid of me.

I should have guessed.

You've outstayed your welcome, Mr. Corso.

- I was hoping to examine your copy in detail.

- Certainly not.

Tell your client, who can only be Boris Balkan,

to come and examine it himself, if he dares.

Tell him not to send any more wolves in sheep's clothing.

And now, kindly leave.

- I'm sorry if I troubled you.

Thank you very much for your time.

- You don't know

what you're getting yourself into, Mr. Corso.

Get out before it's too late.

- I'm afraid it already is, Baroness. Good day.

Merci.

- They're broken.

You should be more careful.

- I need a favor, Gruber.

- Certainly, Mr. Corso.

- Liana Telfer, maiden name De Saint-Martin.

40-ish, brunette, dishy.

Probably accompanied by a Black gentleman

with closely cropped platinum blond hair and a mustache.

I wanna know if they're staying at some hotel here in Paris.

- It could take a little time. - Yes, of course.

Start with the five-stars. That's your best bet.

- I will see. - All right.

- Are you feeling all right?

- I've felt better, Gruber. Thanks.

Let me know if you locate them.

Put this against the back of your neck.

You were really great down there by the river.

I haven't thanked you for that.

All right. Look.

I think it's about time you told me what's going on here.

- Someone's after your book.

- No kidding.

And you? Where do you fit into it?

Yeah?

May I take it in reception, please?

All right, I'll be right down.

a Yes? nything new?

- Oh, his "master's voice" again.

No, not much,

aside from the fact someone's tried to take my life

a couple of times.

- Oh. - Oh, yes,

and Fargas has been murdered.

- Oh. Murdered? How do you know?

- I saw him and his copy, or what was left of it anyway.

Someone had snatched the engravings

and tried to burn the rest.

What do you make of it?

- That's tragic, it's tragic.

What about Baroness Kessler, how did you get on today?

- Where exactly are you? - What about her copy?

- No, why do I get the impression

that you've been breathing down my neck the entire time?

- You're an investment of mine, Mr. Corso.

I'm merely looking after it.

- The old woman swears her copy's authentic,

but I didn't get a chance to examine it closely.

She threw me out as soon as she guessed

that you were behind my visit.

You aren't exactly in her good books,

if you know what I mean.

- You must see her again. - Are you kidding?

Have you seen her secretary?

- Try the lunchbreak.

- Hello?

You have a photocopy machine back there?

- Oh, yes, monsieur.

- May I use it? - Of course, monsieur .

- Oui. - Yes.

Hello, Baroness, it's me.

The wolf in sheep's clothing .

- I thought I'd made myself

quite clear, Mr. Corso.

- Well, I've got something for you, Baroness.

A kind of peace offering.

Will you allow me to give it to you?

Please?

First, let me apologize.

I should have told you right away

that I'm working for Boris Balkan.

It was foolish of me to think I could deceive someone

as astute as yourself.

So, please forgive me.

- Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Corso.

Get on with it. - Right.

These are for you.

- What is this?

What is this supposed to be?

You said your knowledge of The Nine Gates was extensive,

but did you ever compare your copy with the other two?

- No. Why? - Well, you should.

These are copies of the engravings in Balkan's book.

You'll find that some of them differ from yours.

- Differ?

So, you question my book's authenticity, do you?

If that's your peace offering, you can take it and go.

My Nine Gates is absolutely genuine.

- I don't dispute that, Baroness.

In my opinion, all three copies are genuine.

But the fact remains, they display variations.

- Variations?

If that were true, it would be a revelation.

What makes you so sure?

- I've already compared these with the Fargas's engravings.

And in his book, the keys were in the other hand.

Here, the doorway wasn't bricked up.

And in this one, the man was hanging by the other leg.

Well?

- Well what?

- Look closely, Baroness.

The turrets. Three in yours, four in Balkan's.

- Amazing.

- I'm convinced there'll be a third one in here somewhere.

Three variations in three copies makes nine.

Coincidence or something more?

Maybe Torchia hid the secret of The Ninth Gate

in three books, not one.

- I must admit I'm impressed.

This puts an entirely different complexion on the matter.

You have my permission to investigate further, Mr. Corso.

Take as long as you need.

My permission did not extend to that, Mr. Corso.

Nobody smokes in my library.

- Baroness?

Baroness?

Excuse me. There's something missing from my room.

Has anyone been up there while I was out?

- Only your wife, monsieur . - My wife?

I don't have a wife.

- Oh, excuse me, monsieur .

- Yes.

- What news?

- News? Let me see.

Well, yes.

The good news is I got to examine the old woman's book

and three of her engravings were signed LCF.

The bad news is that someone strangled her

and made a bonfire of her collection.

Now, that's tragic, wouldn't you say?

- You took the words out of my mouth.

- Yes, it's the Fargas story all over again.

I'm of the mind that they tore out the engravings

before they torched the place.

That makes two sets they've got.

- And my copy?

- Well, I learned my lesson, fortunately.

I don't carry it around with me anymore.

Otherwise, it might have gone up in smoke.

- Excellent. Good thinking .

Well, with two copies gone,

that seems to conclude your assignment.

It only remains for you to return my book.

I'm staying at the Ritz,

you can pick up your check at the same time.

Shall we say half an hour?

- There's more bad news.

I don't have it. - You don't have it?

- Someone lifted it from my room.

- Listen to me very carefully, Mr. Corso.

I think you may already have some idea

of the lengths to which I'm prepared to go

when I want something.

Unless you recover my property in double-quick time,

you'll discover just how far that can be.

- Where is it? - Where's what?

- The book. Where is it?

- Would I be here if I took it? Huh?

You should know better by now.

- I must apologize for my young colleague, Mr. Corso.

It was unpardonable.

- Is that her? - No, monsieur.

She was tall, dark hair, very chic, very elegant.

- Which reminds me, sir.

I have the information you wanted.

The lady and gentleman you mentioned,

they're staying at the Plaza Athena Hotel, suite 209-211.

- Thank you very much, Gruber. I owe you one.

- I need a taxi, quick. - Taxi?

- Send this to Mr. Balkan at the Ritz.

That's b-a-l-k-a-n.

Fax it immediately. - Certainly, sir.

Always a pleasure to be of service.

- You coming?

- Monsieur. Bonjour.

- What do you plan to do if you see them?

- Probably hide behind you.

Oh, that's them. That's them.

We should grab a taxi before they take off.

Let's go.

- They're going.

Coming?

- Couldn't you pick something a little less conspicuous?

- Don't be so picky.

Some people would give their eye teeth for a ride in this.

- Listen, we can't sit on their tail forever.

They're bound to smell a rat.

- How do I look?

- Ridiculous.

- Sit tight.

Take your pick.

- No, you. You know everything.

- If you say so.

We lost them.

- No, not at this speed.

They must have gone the other way.

- You mean I don't know everything after all?

- Turn around.

- 30-ish, brunette, dishy.

What was her name again?

- Telfer, Liana Telfer.

- No, her maiden name.

- Saint-Martin. - Look.

- Monsieur?

- Si?

- Chateau, I knew it.

Merci.

Keep going.

Keep going.

See them anywhere?

No.

Sorry to intrude on you like this.

- What are you doing here?

- I just dropped by to pick up the book you stole

from my room.

- That book is mine.

- We've been through all this before.

- My husband gave it to me.

It wasn't his to sell.

- Maybe he sold it to get back at you.

What happened? Did he catch you with that albino?

- How dare you!

- Keep an eye on her.

- Don't.

- Be careful, she bites.

- Hi.

- Don't move, either one of you.

Get the book.

Don't kill them up here, you'll make a mess.

Take them downstairs.

- You go first. Then you.

Down.

Open the door.

- Watch out!

- I didn't know you had it in you.

- You stay here and cover me, I'm going down.

- Mumbo jumbo! Mumbo jumbo!

Mumbo jumbo. Mumbo jumbo.

Look around you, all of you! What do you see?

A bunch of buffoons in fancy dress.

You think the Prince of Darkness

would actually deign to manifest himself

before the likes of you?

He never has and he never will.

Never.

You read from his book,

but you have no conception of its true power.

I alone have grasped its secret.

I alone have fathomed the master's grand design.

I alone am worthy to enjoy the fruits of that discovery.

Absolute power to determine my own destiny.

- You're insane, Boris. Give it back to me.

- As for you, Liana de Saint-Martin,

you're even guiltier than the rest of this pathetic rabble.

You have at least some idea of what this book can do

in the right hands,

yet you lend yourself to these farcical proceedings,

these orgies of aging flesh conducted in the master's name.

You're a charlatan!

- Don't, Corso! Don't!

Let it be.

- Boo!

- What is it with you?

- He just murdered someone in public.

You're off the hook for the other killings.

You should be grateful. - I'm ecstatic.

- You're out of a job. It's over.

- What more do you want? - You know what.

- Not taking me for a ride?

- You were working for him all along.

- Funny, I thought you were.

- Shit.

- Yes. Yes. That's it.

All is in readiness.

One, four, three,

Six, seven, five,

eight, two, nine.

The enigma is solved at last.

"To travel in silence by a long and circuitous route,

to brave the arrows of misfortune,

and fear neither noose nor fire.

To play the greatest of all games and win,

foregoing no expense,

is to mock the vicissitudes of fate,

and gain at last the key that will unlock the Ninth Gate."

Corso.

- What were you expecting, an apparition?

- You're not wanted here, Mr. Corso. Leave.

- I'm the only apparition you'll see tonight.

- You'll find a check waiting at my New York office.

Payment in full.

- You killed for those.

They're worth more than money.

- Infinitely more,

but they happen to be mine, not yours.

You know something, Corso?

Despite our differences, I have a soft spot for you.

- I'm touched.

- We have something in common, you and I.

We share the same passion.

You've developed the same obsession, haven't you?

Unfortunately for you,

only one of us is destined to fulfill it.

You're out of your depth. Kindly go.

- I'm not leaving here empty handed.

- Don't even think about it.

- Stand aside.

- I credited you with more finesse.

- You heard me, stand back.

- Put that away, it's not your style.

- Don't make me...

- It seems you've found your proper niche at last.

I like that.

Now, you can watch.

I'm entering uncharted territory,

taking the road that leads to equality with God.

Ooh.

You can't come with me. I must travel alone.

But you may look on and marvel.

- It's very kind of you. - Indeed it is.

There have been men who have been burned alive

or disemboweled for just a glimpse

of what you are about to witness.

I give you my allegiance, Master.

I pledge myself to you, body and soul.

Let me fear neither noose, nor fire, nor poison.

Erase me from the Book of Life

and inscribe me in the black Book of Death.

Admit me to the Ninth Gate.

Let it be so.

Let it be so now!

Oh, yes.

I feel the power surge through me like an electric current,

rendering me capable of any feat of mind or body.

I'm invulnerable. I'm invincible.

I could float on air. I can walk on water.

Behold! I plunge my hands in fire.

I feel no heat.

- That's just great, give us another one.

It's miraculous.

I feel nothing, nothing at all!

- Is that it?

Is the game over?

- For Balkan, yes, not for you.

- Why didn't it work for Balkan?

- The ninth engraving was a forgery.

- Where's the real one?

I want it.

- You're running low on gas.

- Do you speak English?