Original subtitles

The Killer Knows the Score...

based on the novel by Fred Kassak

"A cottage and a murder"

-No, wait! You'll never carry that on your own! I'll come with you!

-Thank you, dear Georges, but I don't think dad would be happy!

-Go on, Don Juan, we're closing!

-See you in class?

-After an all-nighter? You want to kill me?!

-So tomorrow! I'll lend you my notes!

-Ciao!

-Marie-Josée!

-You're up, dad? I was scared of waking you.

-Where have you been? You know the time? -With Georges and the band.

Dance champions! First prize for talent!

First prize for endurance! I'm doing it for the community!

With that, good morning. I gotta go beddy-byes!

-I couldn't sleep a wink because of you!

It's your business if you neglect your studies, but think of my work!

-If you weren't sleeping you could've worked!

-If I touch my piano between 10pm and 7am, the other tenants cause a scene.

And I've only got 3 months to write this symphony!

3 months!

A symphony for the Vienna Festival.

-If you wrote jazz you wouldn't be so uptight. And be better off!

-I'm composing, not belching! Inspiration doesn't come at the touch of a button!

I'm writing for music lovers, not juke boxes!

A festival shown on Eurovision! You don't seem to grasp the importance!

Are you listening?

Seven, you have the right to work!

Not too loud, huh...

Think of those who sleep...

What's going on?!

A Martian invasion?

-It's from the garage!

-Is there's a workshop here? -Yes, sir, since this morning.

If it's about a repair, you'll have to talk to the boss.

-What is it?

-I live opposite, sir. That window there!

I'm a composer and I want to ask you if by chance

the sound of my piano disturbed you while you worked.

-I don't think so. -Really? You don't think so?

And do you think that I can work with such a racket under my window?

You've no right, Monsieur to set up such a battleground

under one's nose with no warning. It's illegal!

-That would surprise me! The boss waited 3 years for authorization.

Take it, if he's set up, the authorization is done!

-But this is insane!

Do you think you could compose a symphony in this racket?

-Well... use some earplugs!

-I accept nothing in my ears, but music!

-Try double glazing! -Double glazing?

-That'll save you! My bro lives in Chapelle,

between the metro and the train. He went crazy from the noise!

Now with double glazing, one can hear a pin drop!

-What?

-One can hear a pin drop!

-Could you be a bit quieter?

-No more than three!

Done!

There. Nothing more!

-What do you mean, nothing more?!

-It's guaranteed against traffic noise

not against hammering! Gotta be specific!

Against the hammer there's no sound-proofing!

So again, I can't guarantee anything!

You've got a sensitive ear!

-Do me the favour of disappearing.

-Sorry?

-Get the hell out!

-If you're going to be like that!

I'll send you the bill.

-So the double glazing hasn't come?

-Yes. Can't you hear!

-Certainly... it lets a bit through...

What do you reckon to do?

Now as things stand, all I see is a move!

-Move where? With what?

Can't even exchange, they're demolishing the area in 2 years!

-We'll get compensation!

You could get a house in the country! Your dream!

-My dream! In two years!

The nightmare is I've to complete my symphony in 3 months!

-Ask for an extension!

-You can't just cancel a music festival as if it was a disarmament conference.

-Rent a hotel room! -And that, where would I put it?

I don't have Beethoven's luck!

He was deaf!

Plus he composed without a piano.

-There must be some studios in Paris that you could rent!

With pianos!

Soundproof studios.

Rehearsal Studios Music - Dance - Singing

-Monsieur look out!

-The crossing, dad!

-Dad? Oh, you're surely not his son!

-Go on, little lady, shut up!

-Who'll shut up?! You or me?!

-Now, now, don't cause a scene. Off you go!

-Thank you kindly! Without you, I'd have lost my life!

-Oh, a limb at most!

-Where to walk? This city is unlivable!

-It's true, I couldn't take it here anymore! -You don't live in Paris?

-I just work here. I've a house in the suburbs, in Marly.

-Lucky!

-Oh yes. So calm and peaceful!

If only you could hear the silence!

-We can't talk here, may I offer you a drink?

-You're too kind!

But I can't, I must catch my train. I'm already late.

-And it's my fault! Might I accompany you to the station?

-I'm overwhelmed. Monsieur...?

-Fribourg, Lionel Fribourg, composer.

-Agnès Devillard.

Photographer. -Portraits?

-Yes, at Photomaton.

-Taxi!

Where are you from? What a delightful accent you have!

Mom was Alsacian, but dad was a Breton.

Well, if someone told me I'd saved a composer's life!

May I?

A sweater for dad. It's his birthday soon.

-A sweater for your father, how nice!

I never thought a girl could still be so attentive

to her father, these days...

You live with your father, I suppose...

-No, I live on my own.

-Your husband?

-I'm divorced. -Really? I'm a widower.

-How funny!

I mean... that my husband and your wife...

-You're not bored on your own?

-Oh no!

I write to dad. I tell him about what I do.

When I'm tired of writing, I walk in the garden.

I have the birds for company. -Birds? How I envy you!

There's always something missing from my inspiration. Know what?

The company of the birds of which I'm deprived!

It's too bad... your lovely symphony...

But if it's only the birds, come listen to mine!

Would you? Next Sunday?

-Madame!

First you save my life, and then my inspiration!

My art and I say thank you!

Agnes' home was more than a simple house,

It was a villa!

I fell immediately in love with its white serenity

and its bucolic calm.

-You're spoiling me!

-What a stunning home! As the poets say:

Here everything is order and beauty!

-Welcome to my home!

Have you seen my boats?

They're pretty, eh...

-Stunning!

-Dad built them!

-On his own? -He's a former naval carpenter.

Now that he's retired, he has too much time on his hands!

He sends them from Brittany.

Since mom's death, he lives there on his own.

While Agnès told me of the beauties of Brittany

and the crafting prowess of her father,

I couldn't help but think of how easily I could work in this room

rid of such abominations!

-He never stops building!

I have an attic full!

He was furious when I asked him to stop sending them!

Look how he decorates them! Tap, tap, tap with the hammer blows!

-Hammer blows? -Yes, they're a good size!

And strong!

Long nails like that in them! Dad has a hammer in his blood!

He's not alive until he's hammering nails!

That's him!

That's dad.

What do you think?

-He seems energetic.

-He said he'll bury us all!

Concerning my poor mother, he was right!

Oh I'm rambling... You must be starving!

Come!

My appetite was compromised by the thought of dad's disgusting flotilla,

but was happily reinvigorated by the Breton specialties of his daughter

and I enjoyed the succinct improvisations of Marie-Josée.

-Have you never thought of remarrying?

-Like dad says: "Once bitten twice shy"

Me, I'm rather shy.

-Did your husband make you sad?

-He left me after a year of marriage. -He didn't know how to appreciate you.

-I hate him for divorcing me without warning.

-You can't divorce like that! By surprise! -Yes you can!

He asked for a divorce and I said no. Just think! I'm a good Catholic.

So he asked for a separation. I accepted.

We were separated since I was here and he was there...

Let me tell you something!

There I was stupid!

-Trusting, at most too trusting!

-Because after 3 years,

the separation became a divorce! Without even asking!

Apparently he had the right! It's just not fair.

-Principles... holy values aren't respected these days!

-I never saw such thing in my whole life!

-To abandon such a wife, such a dwelling, what blindness!

-Oh! Can you feel the chill? -If you're cold we can go in.

-We'll have coffee inside.

-You have no idea how much I like it here,

how much I appreciate this day! -Then, you must come back!

-May I? I don't want to take advantage of your Sundays.

-It would be a pleasant distraction! At present there is only Mass.

If you want, come back next week.

A week later, I was back with Agnès.

She won me over with her refreshing simplicity,

the calmness that emanated from her,

and her house.

Monsieur Lionel came to see me every Sunday.

He was so nice!

Never forgot to bring me chocolates!

Why hide it,

projects of marriage were already gathering in my mind.

To create the right poetic climate, I suggested a walk on the shore.

Monsieur Lionel never said or did a thing

to make one believe he was thinking of you-know-what...

It was a bit much, though.

I don't like men who only think of one thing,

but he didn't think of anything!

-Agnès, I can imagine what you're thinking...

-Of what...

-Of what we should do, you and I now that we know each other so well...

-Oh, Monsieur Lionel!

-Oh Agnès, I promised myself to not push you,

to wait another week.

But enough, I can wait no more! -Oh! Monsieur Lionel!

-Your eyes told me it wasn't too early to ask.

Agnès, would you make me the happiest man in the world?

-Here?! Right now?

-You don't think the scene reflects our happiness?

-But if someone comes?

-They would only lend to our engagement kisses!

-Engagement?!

-My dear Agnes, if you accept to marry me, we would become fiancés right away.

-You want to marry me?!

-That's what I'm trying to say.

-You mean we'd get married, to each other?

-Yes, preferably, to each other!

-How nice of you to say that!

I'm flattered but... -But?

-You know I'm divorced, so I can't remarry in church.

Doesn't that matter to you?

-My dear Agnès, for your happiness, I'd sacrifice anything!

-And your girl?

-I thought we could share your house and give my studio to her for her studies.

And I don't think your father will give us any trouble.

-Oh no!

He didn't like my ex-husband whom he found too young.

He couldn't complain of that with you!

-So Agnès, what do you say?

-I'll think it over, Lionel, I promise!

Next Sunday, I stayed at home.

I got word from Agnès setting up our weekly visit.

She had sprained her ankle, slipping in the bath.

Waiting impatiently for our next meeting, that I hoped would be decisive,

I profitted by working on my symphony both day and night,

as time was running out.

-Monsieur, you stop me sleeping! -Monsieur, you stop me working!

-Thumping the piano all night is "work"?

-Walking up and down stairs in pyjamas is "sleep"?

-Monsieur, I'm a civil servant! -It's not enough to sleep all day too?

-Enough of your jokes!

I wake up every day at 6am!

-What a good use of time!

-I work for the state!

My sleep is sacred, Monsieur!

-Me too Monsieur, I work for the state! And for the prestige of France!

-Have you finished this racket?!

-I know the law, after 10 pm you have to be quiet!

One more note and I call the cops!

-Good evening!

I know someone who'll be deprived again of the pure Sunday air!

May I?

Of course! What bad luck it's brought this poor woman, your proposal of marriage!

Eight days later, she hurts her foot in the tub

and look who that burned!

-It's troubling... -It's quite clear!

She's distancing herself, the doll! Distancing!

-I would be infinitely grateful if you wouldn't say "doll"

about the person who could soon be your step-mother!

-Whether your doll or my step-mum, she's distancing herself! The proof is there!

-Enough. I won't talk about it with some poorly raised kid!

Anyway,

what exactly do you mean by "distancing"? -I know what I see:

this woman, firstly she's a half-wit, secondly she drops you!

That's OK, dad! They say always fight for the woman you love!

Now if I was you,

I'd go down there, see what's cooking...

Friendly advice... You do what you want...

A father warned is worth two!

-Me, go there and spy? Never!

You'll soon learn that emotions can't overpower dignity!

-Monsieur Lionel! What a surprise!

-Forgive the intrusion, but ...

after your letters it seemed an explanation was needed...

May I enter? -Oh... Pardon!

But... I'm not presentable!

Not dressed! My hair isn't done!

-I'm happy to see your foot, your hand is well!

Remember Agnès, you owe me an answer!

What's going on? You're moving?

-No, dad's coming.

-What?!

-I emptied the lounge, it'll be good for building his boats!

-You want me to understand that... this old man...

your father.... will live here?

-Yes! He wrote.

-It's only natural that a father separated from his child all year

wants to spend some time with her.

-Dad will come stay here... for good.

-But if he just wants to be close by;

couldn't he get a room in the neighbourhood?

-Oh... A man who's hammering away all day has a hard time finding a place, you know.

You have no idea how noisy he is! -I think I have a vague idea...

But have you told him about us? -Of course!

He hasn't answered. He's too busy.

-If I could allow myself to insist... for your own good.

Have you thought that by coming here,

he's not only stopping you from restarting your life, but ruining his health.

An old man still spry, like your father,

I suppose he's still spry...

-Oh he's quite spry! -Oh, wonderful!

Well, a spry old man used to a bracing Breton climate

would waste away shut up here, bored to death.

But he won't be bored, since he'll be making his boats!

Then... He wrote to say he's coming... I can't refuse my own father!

-I suppose it's put an end to our enterprise...

-Yes. I'm afraid...

-Maybe we could go together, explain...

-Oh, no, it's clear you don't know him!

Ask his neighbours on rue de l'Église

over there in Saint-Gildas de Plougueac-Querennec!

Dad's stubbornness, it shocks even them!

And they're Bretons too!

-Saint-Gildas de Plougueac-Querennec!

What a pretty name!

-Monsieur, buy this badge from me! For families lost at sea.

Thank you, Monsieur!

-It's you who rang?!

-I'm Lionel Fribourg, a friend of your daughter.

-Lionel Fribourg...

Never heard of him! -She must have mentioned me.

-I burn all her letters! Such silly things!

So you're the pianist? Your servant!

Monsieur, I'm working!

-Me too, Monsieur, I have work to do. May I come in?

-What is it now? -Your daughter and I are practically engaged...

I know she's preparing to make another blunder!

-She wouldn't make a blunder marrying me,

I'm no young philanderer, nor an old roué!

I'm a composer!

-You mean a starving artist! I get why my daughter likes you...

-Monsieur, this is too much!

Can't you leave that hammer for one minute?

-At my age there's no time to lose!

-Agnès told me you intend to live with her.

-That bothers you?

-It ruins our marriage!

-It stops you from living at her house!

-I don't get it!

-You're a musician, right? A brainbox!

You know as well as me my daughter's a dolt!

Why would a brainbox marry a dolt,

and play the lady-killer and lead her on?

Mystery...

Unless the dolt has a nice little house in the country...

That explains everything! -Your cynicism is boundless!

-I warn you, don't count on it!

Agnès has a nice little home and is a dab hand in the kitchen.

It's me who'll benefit from them both and no one else!

Get that into your head!

-Stop that hammering!

-You're going to wrap it up, eh! No more hammering!

-Stop that hammering!

-If I feel like it! Idiot!

-Insults are a brute's weapons!

Get that into your head!

Suddenly there was silence...

A sense of well-being came over me.

However the irascible hammerer possessed an immobility somewhat unusual.

Had I struck too keenly?

I had to take stock.

Agnès' father had firmly resolved not to become my father-in-law...

I was in a delicate situation, Anyone could enter...

And the police who saw evil everywhere,

wouldn't miss an opportunity to accuse me of murder...

So I put myself in a position unfitting a symphonic composer,

though necessary.

I had often seen how to do it in the cop movies my daughter dragged me to.

Passing by the church I had the good fortune to note

some strains of local folk music

which would enhance my symphony.

I went back to my place without being noticed.

With the paucity of gestures and expressions

often noticed in a celebrated theatrical actor

known to commit himself occasionally to spy films.

For once I appreciated the irregular life of my daughter

who must have been in full choreographed orgy with her young friends...

So I had no need to justify my late return.

-You know what time it is?

-Uh... you're home already?

-And you, where have you been? -Where?

Where do you think?

Marly of course!

-At this hour?! Well... I guess you two made up!

-It seems so... -Bravo dad! You're a diplomat!

So between you and her dad, she's chosen?

-I think that... right now...

there's no doubt about it.

-I got your telegram Agnès, what is it?

-Dad...

-Don't tell me something bad has happened to your father!

-He's dead!

I'm leaving for Saint-Gildas, I have a train to catch soon.

-Oh... My poor Agnès, I don't know what to say...

What happened? -Unexpectedly...

He was hit in the head with his hammer.

-With his hammer? A work accident, then.

You've no more details about such an extraordinary death!

-On the phone the police said

it was suicide!

Dad couldn't kill himself! It's not possible!

-Why not? Suicide is always a possibility!

We're all at the mercy of suicide! -It's a mortal sin!

If dad committed suicide, the Church wouldn't bury him!

-If it was just that, Agnès, don't worry!

Everything depends on you! - Me?

-The Church is understanding, thank God!

Just tell them that sometimes your father didn't know what he was doing...

-Dad always knew what he was doing!

-I believe you, but... you could pretend he was in a state

that caused him to lose his head.

-It would be a lie! -Pious!

-Pious lie, Agnès!

For his sake!

-Oh... Well from that perspective... Oh Lionel...

It's so comforting to have you by my side, you give such good advice!

If I may.... I know you have so much work but...

I feel so alone, so sad!

I thought maybe... you could come with me...

Or join me tomorrow!

-Me, go there? It's madness! - Why?

-Well, because...

it wouldn't be proper for you to travel with a man.

If it was only about me, I wouldn't hesitate...

but there's you, Agnès, a woman too easily compromised...

-Oh! I didn't think of that!

-If I was in your place... I wouldn't tell anyone you knew me.

-Oh no? -No!

-If you said you had a male friend in Paris,

public opinion, through your naivety of soul,

would presume you had a lover...

Which would turn the Church against you

and so against your father and his religious interment.

-Oh, that's true!

Oh Lionel, you think of everything!

If dad goes to heaven, it'll be thanks to you!

-Are you Monsieur Pantrieux? -Yes.

-Inspector Champorelle. I expected you earlier!

-I was going 180 kph!

And I thought that with one death in the family

that would be enough for one day!

-You're the cousin of the deceased? -Distant cousin.

-If you want to see him, we can talk later.

-Cousin Francis!

How kind of you to come! -Cousin Agnès!

-I suppose cousin Jacques will come...

-I don't know, he never had a good sense of family!

-Fine!

Another cousin! And what cousin Jacques?

-My ex-husband was a distant cousin of dad.

-And as I'm a distant cousin of her father,

then I'm equally distant cousin to madame's ex-husband.

-Yeah well...

Well, if you're done, I have things to do.

According to the first statement of Dr. Hublot, the police doctor...

It's a suicide.

Well, I'm not convinced!

-Me neither! -Pardon?

-Now I think of it... dad had no reason to kill himself.

He was going to come live with me.

-It doesn't make sense that someone so depressed would make future plans!

And you're not seeing anyone who might object to him living with you?

I was going to mention Lionel when I remembered just in time

what he had told me.

-No fiancé? Nothing?

"If you say you have a male friend...

"they'll think you have a lover...

"The burial of your father will be compromised..."

-I live on my own, have no fiancé and am not seeing anyone.

-Too bad!

So you don't want to file a complaint against X, for homicide?

-X? Who is X?

-There is no X!

X is a myth! And I'll prove it!

There's not the least trace of anything perforating the interior of the skull!

The deceased was killed with a blunt object.

So he died from a blow without cutting.

The hammer perfectly fits the description.

-Here's the family. The daughter of the deceased.

-Doctor Hublot.

My condolences, ma'am! -All the same!

-His distant cousin.

-No doubt about it! Her father committed suicide!

-But doctor, that's not how one commits suicide!

-One does it how one can!

Remember, July 13 1895,

in the USA, a carpenter,

just like your father,

tried to kill himself

by driving a nail with a hammer into the top of his skull!

The nail, long though it was, never reached a crucial part of the brain

and our man, discouraged by his useless efforts,

made his way to the hospital with the nail still in the head!

They took it out, and he went home happy as Larry!

Well... What do you say?

-In the present case... -I'm coming!

The subject... worked here.

On this... thing.

When he broke down in a violently depressive episode

leading to an unstable state,

and really broke down

into violent cephalalgia. -Violent what?

-Uh... headaches,

which engendered in turn a sort of

self-destructive furor that lead him to

strike himself over the head in a manner to which he is accustomed,

with a hammer!

And so it was only natural that,

being right handed,

he hit himself on the right side.

It's what anyone would do in his place!

Such neat blows could only

be from someone in his line of work!

If you're trying to explain his death as a crime

you're tilting at windmills!

-Do you think a depressive episode could cause...

-Madame could shed some light here.

Your father

was he prone to such severe crises?

-Dad went into rages!

Maybe this time he got angry at himself.

-Very well...

In the face of this testimony...

I must concede.

The case is settled!

Thanks to Lionel's advice,

I could get the religious burial that I wanted, to my great happiness.

Cousin Francis offered to drive me back to Paris.

I loved his blue eyes...

and above all his smile.

Well, he wasn't smiling much, on the way back from the burial.

Unfortunately, the car broke down on the way.

Luckily, the breakdown happened right by a hotel.

Francis said we might as well get dinner,

and leave the next day.

After a good night's rest.

I was trying to take a little nap,

when cousin Francis knocked at the door.

He proposed to take me to the movies before dinner.

I was shocked. A movie, it's a show!

I couldn't go to a show the day after dad's funeral!

And just the thought of dad made me cry!

So Francis consoled me...

consoled me...

consoled me...

Well, I don't know if it was appropriate...

but... at least it wasn't a show!

-Nothing for you Monsieur Fribourg! -Thank you all the same, Madame.

Since her return from Brittany, Agnès had written to inform me

of the happy conclusion of the inquest. Since then... nothing.

No response to my letters!

I would surprise Agnès on the very ground where she exercised her photographic arts.

-Smile!

Come back in 6 minutes!

Agnès seemed less downtrodden than I had feared.

More colour in her cheeks, more sparkling eye than before.

Doubtless the joy of being freed of her tyrannical father.

-Oh Monsieur Lionel!

-I understand your pain, Agnès, but haven't you received my letters?

-I have some family affairs to settle...

An old relative... a cousin of dad's. It's all so complicated.

-I hope your house isn't in trouble! Beware, Agnès...

you don't want to attract unscrupulous people...

capable of exploiting your father's death...

-Oh no, it's not that!

-Very well! -Sit down, Monsieur!

Look there! -If I can help...

No, no. My relative is very competent!

Smile!

-And our marital plans, Agnès?

-I'm thinking about it, Lionel, but...

I hesitate...

I have scruples...

religious ones!

Despite my divorce, for the Church I'm still married!

-I'm sure your ex-husband doesn't have your scruples.

He probably remarried a long time ago! -He's different, he has no morals!

Besides, he makes films!

Smile!

-An actor? There is no worse profession!

-He's in historical films, he's a body double for the stars.

-And you consider yourself still married to a man like that?

-Not me, Lionel, the Church!

It would be a sin to marry you!

If you died, I wouldn't be your legitimate widow!

Smile!

-A worry for the future, but not right now...

-Right now, I've scruples and I'll wait.

Plus so soon after dad's death, it's not right!

I couldn't find in my own expression

a reflection of my pain.

This period of mourning would be for me, if I dare say so,

dead time.

-Stop your night club!

-Again your doll is playing you for a fool!

So what's she invented this time?

-Invented nothing! She's hesitating!

-Open your eyes, dad!

This girl is finding excuses to distance herself! -What excuses?

Her father wanted to live with her, that's not an excuse!

-Why not, did he tell you himself what he wanted?

You didn't see him? -Yes! Exactly!

-You went to see him?

-Me? No! Not at all!

Why would I have gone to see her father?

-Don't defend yourself!

Even if you went, it wouldn't be a crime!

-No. Of course not!

I read his letters to Agnès, that's all.

-Fine, and now her father's dead, so what are you waiting for?

-Mourning for her father, some girls still do, you know!

Agnès has certain scruples...

religious ones.

A divorced catholic who remarries is a bigamist!

I understand why she hesitates... -Certainly, she's very strong!

-But if she didn't want to marry me, why not come out and say so?

Why show so much respect?

-Dad, you're a real case! Want me to tell you?

Your doll has a fancy man!

She's just not sure she can marry you...

So she keeps you in reserve for when her boyfriend dumps her.

-Agnès?!

A lover?! With her religious principles!

-I bet they wear pants, her "religious scruples".

Here! I'd like her husband to snuff it just like her father!

I'd be curious to see what excuse she'd make then!

-If her husband snuffed it, as you put it...

she'd have no excuse! She'd marry me!

-There's no sense imagining what Agnès would do if her husband snuffed it,

since he hasn't snuffed it! Ciao!

If her husband snuffed it...

If her husband snuffed it...

If her husband snuffed...

it...

-That's just what I feared!

One settles matters of inheritance in the bedroom!

-You see bad in everything! Suppose it's a close relation.

-Close perhaps, relation, my eye...

It's her boyfriend! I'll get rid of the doll and you vamp the boyfriend.

Great battles are won on small details...

In 3 days this suburban Messalina will crawl to dad on her hands and knees to marry him!

-And what do I do? -You wait here, this is women's work!

Go!

-She'll never let me in! -Find an excuse!

-Wouldn't you like a little siesta? -I'm coming.

You're expecting someone?

-No, no one!

But Lionel... -Who?

You don't know him.

-Madame Devillard? -Yes.

-Hello Madame, I'm the daughter of Monsieur Fribourg.

-His daughter? Oh... -I was walking with my friends...

-Madame. -Hello Mademoiselle!

-I couldn't be so near a friend of dad's without saying hello!

-How kind of you! But sadly...

-Sorry, could you tell me...

-What?

-Oh... first floor, door on your left.

-Thanks a lot, Madame.

-Looking for someone? -Excuse me! I made a mistake!

-You're a friend of Madame Devillard? -A distant friend...

-I didn't know she had such young friends...

-You're a relation of Madame Devillard?

-A distant relation.

-I thought her relations were older!

Delighted! Truly delighted!

You don't think your friend...

-I so wanted to meet you! Especially if you're going to be my mother.

-What?

-By marriage...

-Your friend seems a bit lost... -Don't worry, she knows her way around!

-So, coming out with me tomorrow night?

-I can't just leave my cousin! -Forget family, promise you'll come!

-Let me think... I'll come down whilst I wait.

-They have great records! Stan Getz, like him?

-I understand! And Lester Young!

-Mademoiselle Fribourg, a friend's daughter,

Monsieur Pontrieux, a relative.

I believe you've met... -Delighted to meet you!

-Delighted and saddened, as she must leave!

-Who, me?!

-Your fiancé's waiting in the car?

-My fiancé?!

-You know how jealous he gets!

Say goodbye! We'll excuse you!

-Goodbye, Mademoiselle!

-Madame!

No, wait! Seduce the boyfriend, leave him be!

-Leaving a man like him with a woman like her...

it would be worse than a crime, it would be a waste! -I understand!

-Still, your friend...

does she often forget her fiancé?

-He's the 4th in 6 months!

-So young and already collecting fiancés, how sad!

-So young and dedicating oneself to matters of inheritance, that's no more fun!

-It's only provisional! I'm going through a sort of slack time.

-Well, affairs are in order right now!

-In photography too...

-My business would be better if I had a partner.

-I didn't know you were looking for a partner, cousin.

- I've kept it to myself, but I've been thinking. My ideal person would be

shrewd yet with delicacy and initiative, who understands my every thought.

-Ah... such refinement isn't common! You'll... have a hard time finding it!

-One never knows, luck has its way of working...

-That's what I always say! We must seize life's opportunities.

But chance never presents itself twice! -Listen to Madame. She has good advice!

-You can bet if chance beat a path to my door, I wouldn't let it go!

-Unfortunately chance mightn't have your address...

-Oh! If it were that easy! I'd give chance my address!

And phone number!

-Do you know my address, cousin?

-LABORDE-7699.

-Amazing memory!

-Miraculous!

-Marie-Josée sure is agreeable!

Not like her friend who was so forward...

right under my nose!

I'm speaking to you!

What are you thinking about?

-About... my associate...

-Now that we're alone, wouldn't you like a siesta?

Siesta, always siesta! Leave me be!

About this Marie-Josée...

I understood she's the daughter of a friend...

-Exactly. A very distinguished widower!

I didn't want you to be jealous that he was courting me.

He even wants to marry me! Him!

-Devillard. Jacques Devillard.

He's filming The Black Prince?

It's for a story in The Little Cinephile, Côtes Du Nord.

Outside of Vigny?

Only until tonight.

Thank you, Mademoiselle.

-Dad!

You're in luck! We were discussing how best to tell you.

Francis Pontrieux, my fiancé. -Hello. Excuse me.

Your what?! -We're engaged since yesterday.

-But... you could've talked to me! She should've talked to me!

-It all happened so fast! Didn't it, dear? -Sure did, angel!

-You don't get engaged the very first day! -Well, I've no religious scruples, me!

-May I?

A responsible father requires some guarantee of morality.

-Impeccable morality!

Before knowing me he saw a lot of...

pious people.

You have similar tastes...

He has one fault, he doesn't have a home.

So I thought... since you want to live in the suburbs...

we could take your place while we look for our own.

-Your daughter told me you're expecting to move to the country.

-My daughter will say anything! I'm not in the country yet!

-I thought it wouldn't be long! Happiness never comes alone...

-Happiness is earned! Nothing without hard work and struggle!

On that note, excuse me... I have stuff to do...

-Tonight I'm introducing your daughter to my parents

at a small party with some friends.

Would you do us the honour of attending?

-Here's the address. Finish your business and hurry!

-I'll try my best!

-Do you think your father liked me?

-As long as you don't interrupt his music, you've nothing to fear.

-Let's go!

Get ready!

-Jacques, you need to go the right, at the end of the road!

Everyone ready!

-Filippi, for god's sake, are you sleeping?!

Come on, ladies, in position!

Ladies of the court, crew!

This Jacques Devillard...

specialized in alleged historical films for those with a taste for blood and violence.

Contributing to the lowering of public morals and raising of juvenile crime.

-Jacques! Move your nag half a centimetre to the right!

-5 mm! 5 mm!

-And look a bit more martial!

-I'll murder you ya bum!

But chance which had so happily favoured the disappearance of my beloved's father

singularly complicated the task at hand with her ex,

who seemed rather too well protected!

Damn and blast him!

-Stop him!

Stop him!

Stop him!

By god, stop him!

Chase after him!

Hurry!

- Is this your horse?

Are you crazy or what?!

Jacques Devillard had little chance of surfacing...

The Armour of which he was so proud on dry ground

proved more troublesome where he now found himself.

As far as I was concerned,

I could only congratulate myself on this work mishap, as elegant as opportune.

A fitting end for a stuntman, being stunted in a stunt!

-Ah! Monsieur Fribourg!

Telegram for you!

-Already!

Agnès asked me to pick her up after work.

-Lionel!

It's going to close! Come quick! -Where?

-Let's have dinner tonight!

Follow me!

I'm not going to keep you on tenter-hooks about my news.

Lionel...

We can get married!

-I'm stunned!

Only I hate that my happiness comes at the cost of

another's sadness.

-Whose sadness?

-Your poor ex-husband.

Something happened to Jacques?

-Uh... I don't know... I thought...

-What an idea! You scared me!

No Lionel! They left me.

-Who left you?

-My religious scruples!

-What, so suddenly? -In an instant!

-My dear Agnès, that's fantastic!

Too bad they didn't leave you yesterday...

-Actually it was yesterday when he left... when they left, that is.

Why?

-What's done is done...

Tonight...

Champagne is called for!

Oh damn, I forgot, excuse me!

I'm busy tonight! -How awful!

-I'm heartbroken, my daughter's engaged and I'm invited to a little do.

-Your daughter? I'm so happy for her!

She's so shy, so decorous.

-You know her? -She visited me.

She didn't tell you? -She never tells me anything!

-Ladies and gentlemen, we're closing!

-I wonder, why don't you join me?

-I'm not invited. -We'll share everything now.

Even invitations!

-Lionel!

There!

Jacques! My ex-husband!

"It wasn't a movie! His horse caught fire and he drowned!

Star stuntman Jacques Devillard dies while filming "The Black Prince"

-How awful, my poor Jacques! -I understand, certainly quite awful.

But you weren't still in love with him.

-Oh no Lionel, it's not that! -It's just emotion.

-Not just emotion, I'm thinking of the house!

-Why the house?

-It belonged to Jacques! - What?

-He let me keep it after the divorce, despite our separation,

but now that he's dead, it'll go to his heirs!

-Take her to the cloakroom!

-I'll get a cordial.

-I didn't tell you to bring her! -If I'd have known, I'd have left her!

A hypocrite!

A sneak!

-You know she and Francis...

-A liar...

who carefully hid that she didn't own her house!

-No joke!

-Little hypocrite!

Little sneak!

Little liar!

-You know each other?

-Religious scruples! In person!

-Snake! Coward!

-All the same, cousin!

-You're just like my poor Jacques. It runs in the family!

-Why "poor" Jacques? He's doing well! I read he was shooting a film.

-Not so well since this afternoon,

he's dead!

-Jacques is dead?

Jacques is dead...

but...

But his house comes to me!

-What?!

-Sorry!

-Cousin Jacques never remarried.

I'm his only relative.

I'm his sole heir!

-Oh great! My dear, we'll live in the country!

-But... what about me?

-You can share the apartment of your new husband!

-I'll never marry the father of a viper!

-I'd never marry a Tartuffe who deceived me!

-Tartuffe?! One more word and I'm leaving!

-If it's a word of mine, consider it said.

-My dear children this has all been very trying

and I should be vexed with your little secret, but...

no hard feelings, I'll forget the whole thing.

I don't see any problem at all moving into the house with you,

my piano and me, will be quite happy with the ground floor room.

-We're planning to turn it into a nursery.

-Children, there's plenty of time and they only bring trouble.

-It's ungrateful, I know! But I'm going to be a young mother.

-So you're kicking me out.

-We can't kick you out because you were never let in.

-If you want to be at hand, why not rent a room nearby?

-Young man, let me talk to my daughter.

-My dear,

don't forget you're a minor! I can revoke my consent!

-You wouldn't, dad! -I'll put a stop to it!

-Married or not I'll live with Francis!

-I'll call the police! Abduction of a minor is a crime!

-You'd call the police?!

What's this?

"Pilgrimage from Saint Gildas de Plougueac-Querennec"

Isn't that where Agnès's father lived? -Don't change the conversation!

What were we talking about? -You wanted to call the police...

-Let's not involve them in our business. Your guests await...

-Excuse me! A whisky!

Another whisky!

-You want to die? You don't look too good!

Are you sick? -I'm the happy father of the bride-to-be!

-You're upset that she's leaving the family nest?

-She's moving to a house in the suburbs.

-So? That's very nice!

I know, I live in one too!

-You live in a house in the suburbs?

-Yes. You can breathe so much easier there than in Paris!

So calm! -Excuse me for not introducing myself,

my work makes me a bit unsociable...

-You're a diplomat! -Not exactly, a composer!

-How interesting!

Tell me about it! -Just a minute!

-May I...

She had the gentle name of Graziella

and was incontestably superior to Agnes

by personally owning her own house.

Plus, she was already a widow.

Her widowhood began to weigh upon her and I seemed to be the man she needed.

Would I finally finish my masterpiece? There were only 22 days left...

-Can I count on you? -Tomorrow!

It's understood. And I have a surprise for you!

Graziella's home was more than just a house.

it was a villa!

So that was the surprise!

She hid that she was also a pianist

with a piano I could use myself.

-That's my surprise!

-Darn!

-It's dad!

A great virtuoso!

To keep in shape, he practices 8 hours a day!

-Silence, good lord! Peace!

Peace...

I gave it to him for eternity.

He received an opportune blow from his piano lid to the skull.

Another work accident.

THE STUNT DOUBLES' CLUB for JACQUES DEVILLARD

I was trying to put flowers on my ex's grave,

when I found myself face to face with my ex-fiance!

I wasn't happy to see him after he called me a Tartuffe!

But self-respect does not prevent politeness

and I asked if he had lost someone.

No, I'm accompanying this lady who has lost her poor papa!

Like me!

Such similar events!

She told me of her sadness.

I told her my dad was dead too

in a work accident!

What a curious coincidence!

She also lived in a suburban house, like me!

Lionel had courted her like me!

She also noted another curious coincidence

that our fathers were buried near each other.

I told her it wasn't my father, but my ex-husband!

Who had also died, as if by magic

right after discussing my religious scruples with Lionel!

Another coincidence!

Coincidence after coincidence,

I found myself once more in danger of not being able to work in peace!

-So doctor, is X still a myth? -More than ever!

-Don't you think Lionel Fribourg is guilty?

-If he's guilty, then I'm crazy!

-The investigation proved... -I hope you haven't been influenced...

by the wild imaginings of the Parisian police!

They didn't prove anything!

And I'll prove it!

Was he discovered at the carpenter's workshop?

Was he pointed out when the actor drowned?

Was he caught red-handed braining the pianist?

Where are the witnesses? No one saw him!

-Because he was hiding!

-Ah... But one can go far with such reasoning.

No one saw him because he wasn't there!

-If he didn't kill them, who did?

-You police are all the same!

You see criminals everywhere! A professional hazard!

I'm not a victim of stubborn ideas, and I say there's no murderer!

-Then what?

-Merely suicides, naturally! -Yet more suicides?

It's obvious! -You don't kill yourself with a piano lid!

-And why not?

Do you know the statistics?

Workers prefer to kill themselves

with their tools!

So a pianist would naturally use his piano lid,

the way an actor in historical films uses his horse and Armour,

just as a naval carpenter has used his hammer!

It all makes sense. It's basic logic!

-But why did they all kill themselves?

-For the actor it's obvious!

Dreaming of playing Shakespeare,

but stuck in his Armour at 30 degrees in the shade...

without a single line!

Failed ambitions... Career in a rut...

Psychosis, neurosis... And bang!

The horse's tail catches fire and instead of reacting

he leaves things be, taking advantage to end it all!

And it's crafty besides!

Articles, photos, headlines, all posthumous publicity...

-But the virtuoso wasn't depressed about his career!

-He played his scales and his exercises 8 hours a day

for more than half a century!

Don't you think that's enough to depress just about anyone?

-You're forgetting! Lionel Fribourg confessed!

-The more a guilty man confesses, the more he's believed to be innocent!

-But he didn't confess for fun!

-He confessed from necessity! Put yourself in his place!

Two houses snatched from his grasp! Where should he go?

Two women blabber accusations, he jumped at the opportunity.

As soon as he's in prison, there at least there's silence!

-But that's serious! We can't be complicit in a judicial error!

We must inform the public prosecutor!

-Hold it!

For once this man can work in peace,

Leave him alone!

Happily, thanks to the silence

which envelopes the prison,

and the refinement of the governor and his colleagues,

infected with the idea that music soothes the savage breast,

I achieved the satisfaction of completing my work on the prison harmonium.

And within the deadline!

A month later,

we were able, my colleagues and I,

to witness the performance of my work at the Vienna festival,

retransmitted on Eurovision.

As for the two orphans,

whose inconsiderate chatter had failed to compromise my career

and who now shared the same villa,

I truly hoped that they would witness my triumph!

They would certainly feel a strong sense of comfort in realising

their respective fathers had not died in vain.

The End