All language subtitles for Code.7.Victim.5.1964.720p.BluRay.x264-x0r.en

# Halleluiah #

# Glory, glory, halleluiah #

Attention, please.

Will Mr. Steve Martin,
passenger from New York

please go to the information desk.

What is your name, sir?

Mr. Martin?

- Yes.
- Mr. Wexler sent me to meet you.

Well, hooray for Mr. Wexler.

I'm his secretary, Helga Swinson.

- How do you do?
- Hello.

- Shall we go get my bag?
- Yes.

I'm afraid this heat wave will last
all through the New Year holidays.

It's kind of sudden for me.
I left New York in a blizzard.

Only had two hours
to catch a plane.

That bag, please.
Thank you.

All they could tell me
was that it's a rather unusual case,

and the money's good.

Is there anything else I should know?

That my boss is a millionaire
who likes to do his own briefing.

He's in a bit of a hurry.

Is that your car?

No, Mr. Wexler's.

What's all this?
A fancy-dress ball?

Capetown's New Year carnival.

It's been going on for days.

You certainly seem to know
your way around.

But you're not South African, are you?

Oh, look.

Okay, Greta Garbo.
I get the message.

She's Swedish.

I'm Danish, from Copenhagen.

Two years here.

They tell me this fellow Wexler

owns half the copper mines
in South Africa.

- What's he like to work for?
- Generous.

What's a fellow like that need me
in such a hurry for?

Because he's frightened.

Fascinating.

- What's the matter?
- Nothing.

I just wanted to see the view.

So that's Table Mountain.

And below it the city,
beyond it the bay.

Last stop before the South Pole.

That car was following us.

Why do you say that?

You felt it, too.

The only thing I feel is the heat.

What happened to make Wexler hire me?

His butler was killed.

His butler?

We'd better get on.

Ben was more than just a servant.

He was closer to Mr. Wexler
than anyone alive.

Bad brakes.

Just let me know where he goes
and what he does.

You know where to find me.

Okay, Ms. Swinson.

Mr. Wexler's by the pool.

I'll call the police
and report the accident.

Right.

Mr. Wexler?
I'm Steve Martin.

You got here quickly.

I understood
that was part of the deal.

The deal, Mr. Martin,
is your usual fee

and a $50,000 bonus
when you solve the case.

It's a lot of money, I know.
But I think my life's worth it.

I'm sure it is.

About your butler,

- is there any connection?
- Did Helga...

Helga's in the house
telephoning the police.

What?

Yeah, we had a little trouble
on the way down.

Someone tried to run us off a cliff.

Hello!

Hi.

My step-daughter Gina.

I'd rather she didn't know.

You must be father's friend from New York.
Come and have a swim.

Later, Gina.
Mr. Martin is staying with us.

Mm, that's nice.

Has Mr. Martin told you what happened?
I reported it to the police.

Mr. Martin was telling me.

That car followed us all the way
from the airport.

Anyone else know I was coming?

Only Helga and I.

Everyone else was told you were
a business friend from New York.

Tell me a little me a little bit more
about that butler of yours.

- When was he killed?
- Two nights ago, Mr. Martin.

He went to watch the carnival.

And?

Nest day, the police found him knifed
in an alleyway of District 6.

Could be any number
of drunks around with knives.

Or maybe he was robbed.

It was neither a drunk nor a robber.
Ben was a valuable man.

He was with me for years.
I want his death solved.

That's why you're here.

First I'd better talk to the police.

Police?
The less I see of them, the better.

The inspector in charge of the case
is a fool.

Nevertheless,
that's where I'm gonna start.

Helga?

Arrange for him to have a car, will you?

Why don't we take your car?

I'll be busy, sorry.

Why don't we take mine?

I'm available.

I'll have to take a rain check
on the lunch.

I'm sorry.

If you're staying at the house,
we'll have lots of time.

Steve?

Maybe you'll take a long time
to solve Ben's murder.

How did you know about that?

My step-father thinks it's a secret.
Everybody knows that's why you're here.

Yeah. Well, bye.

Steve?

Don't work at it all the time, will you?

Not at your best this morning, are you?

Let's go and find out who sent you.

Don't you dare move, my poppet.
I'll be straight back.

- Mr. Martin, sir.
- How do you do? Lean.

Thank you, Rawlings.
Don't salute in here, man.

I'm sorry about Rawlings.

He's a recent arrival
from the traffic branch.

- Who the devil are you?
- A policeman, old boy.

- Didn't he tell you?
- Well, he tried to...

- Have a drink.
- Thanks, I'll have a beer.

First I'd like an explanation.
If you really a policeman...

There are two opinions about that,
mine and the Commissioner's.

Henri.
Two beers and a table with a view.

Certainly, sir.
Will you follow me, please?

Tell me, do you eat here often?

I like to keep on top of my territory,
geographically, at least.

It's a magnificent view.

Yes, it is pretty, isn't it?
I could sit and look at it all afternoon.

In fact, I frequently do.

All right, inspector, we'll accept
the fact you're a little off-beat,

but why did you have me followed?

Curiosity.
We checked on you in New York.

You're a private investigator,

and judging by your chariot race
along the coast road,

somebody definitely doesn't want
to be investigated.

You certainly keep up with the news.

We try to, old bean.
We try to.

Why do you suppose Wexler's butler
was murdered?

I haven't the faintest idea.

That's what we're trying to find out.

Making any progress?

No, not by New York standards.
Of course, the pace is faster there.

Tell me, do you, uh...
do you keep in training for your job?

- Judo, that sort of thing?
- Oh, yes.

We even do mental gymnastics.

Now tell me, inspector,
are we going to cooperate or not?

I hope so.
An imported private eye?

Someone looks upon you
as a potential danger.

If they try hard enough
to get rid of you,

maybe it'll smoke them out
into the open.

Thank you.

But of course I suppose you're used
to that sort of thing.

Anyway, we'll keep
a watchful eye on you

just in case.

Why do you both
you and Wexler insist

that this is more than just
an isolated case of murder?

Because I found this beside the body.

Where's this?
Looks like a prison camp.

Yes, that's Ben, the murdered man.

Who do you think that is?

Looks like Wexler.

A younger version,
but of course he denies it.

He denies ever having seen
the photograph in his life.

May I borrow this?

Well, it's prize exhibit number one,

but I suppose I could
look the other way.

Wexler's quite a collector, isn't he?

Who's the man?

George Anderson.
He manages the Wexler mines.

I expect it's just a business lunch,
of course.

Speaking of business,
I did interrupt your lunch, didn't I?

How very thoughtful of you.

Yes, we mustn't let the main dish
get cold, must we?

Just one more thing, inspector.
Where was this man Ben found?

Outside a rather shady nightclub
in District 6.

That's the, uh...
the tough quarter.

Does that mean you don't want me
to go there?

We ordinary policemen
only go there in threes

and never after dark.

Well, thanks for the advice.
Be seeing you.

Constantly, I imagine.

What do you think of the show?

It's fascinating.
I've never seen anything like it before.

They don't feel any pain

because of their religious belief.

Bad time to lose your faith.

The drinks are two rand, Mr. Martin.

That's nice.
Suppose I'm not thirsty.

Then you are not interested.

In what?

In me if you like.

Or a murder on New Year's Eve.

Yep, I'm interested.

Thank you.

Of course, mine's colored water.

It's great.

Only it's not my vintage.

Tell me a little bit more
about New Year's Eve.

Let's get outside where we can breathe.

Let's.

All right, you're breathing.

Now tell me about New Year's Eve.

Run down for a little swim, my poppet.

Anyone could have hired those thugs.

You can buy a killer for $10 in this town.

Almost any town.
Did you find out anything about them?

What do you think I was doing
most of the night?

- Sleeping?
- You know...

I have the impression you think
I don't do any work.

Well, certainly not in your office
at police headquarters.

Well, I like the... the outdoor life.
It's good for the eyesight.

- Well, maybe you're right.
- Anyway, we're making progress.

Your friends from last night
have left town.

I checked the Malayan quarter.

Then you do know about them.

It's a small-time gang dealing mostly
in narcotics smuggling.

The dead man was the boss.

We also managed to fish out the chap
who tried to run you into the sea.

- He's another of the group.
- What about the girl?

Vanished.

You know, inspector,

I get the idea you rather enjoyed
what happened last night.

I have a theory, my old chum.

A man like Wexler's
not likely to be frightened

by a gang of hired thugs.

Now that you in your intrepid fashion
have put them to flight,

maybe whoever employed them
will show their face.

Great.

So you dangled District 6
in front of me as bait.

I might've been killed.

You must have more faith
in your own ability.

Damaged, perhaps.
Hardly killed.

Well, is there anything else
you'd like me to do?

Hmm?

I said, is there any other little thing
you'd like me to do?

I can't give you orders.
You're a private detective.

You could find out how much
Wexler knows about that photograph.

It's up to you, of course.

Meanwhile, leave the police work
to you, huh?

That might be an idea.

But do keep in touch, by all means.

Mind you,

I can't understand Wexler's fear,

not with the security net
he has round that mansion.

Another baited hook, inspector?

Oh, I just, uh,
said it for what it was worth.

In my opinion it would
take a cross between a Houdini

and a rubbernecked Kelly
to find a way in.

Might be wrong, of course.

Well, goodbye, old chum.

Excuse me.

I thought you were in town.
What are you doing here?

I was just checking your security.
It's rather good.

Dr. Bison, Steve Martin.

- Doctor.
- Mr. Martin.

- You picked a hot time to visit us.
- Yes.

Paul is my step-father's doctor.

Oh, anything wrong?

No, a purely social call.

The patient is healthier
than he likes to admit.

I see, well, I...

I'd better let you
get along with your walk.

Keep your hands off this one, Gina.

I like you when you're jealous.

She doesn't mean a thing, Helga.
Can't you see that?

All I can see is that you're making...

Oh, is there a phone up there?

Yes. George Anderson,
Mr. Martin from New York.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

You're the mines manager,
aren't you?

That's right.
Excuse me.

She makes a fool of every man in sight.

Oh, I forgot.
Inspector Lean telephoned.

He'll be at the harbor cafe
this afternoon.

Fine.

Do you usually search
your employer's house?

Trust me, will you?
Keep him busy.

I'll try.

You bought the wrong file.

- Oh, I'll get it.
- Never mind, Helga.

Oh, please, let me.

For goodness sake,
I'm not a cripple.

Mr. Wexler!

Yes? What is it now?

Can I have this afternoon off?

All right.
If you must.

What the devil are you doing here?

Looking for this.

One was found on Ben's body
and the other in your filing cabinet.

You lied to the police.

Now let's have the truth.

The one thing I expect
from my staff is loyalty.

You can pack your bags and go.

If she goes, I go, too.

I'll talk to you later.

All right, Mr. Martin,
for the moment, I need you.

I'll admit I had a copy
of that photograph,

and it is me.

- It was taken 20 years ago.
- Where?

On a farm in Cape Province.

I came to South Africa
as a German prisoner of war in 1943.

And just how did Ben
get into that photograph?

He was the foreman at the farm
where we were sent to work.

For that to all this in 20 years.

Exactly.

I stayed after the war
because I liked the country.

I built up a fortune
because I discovered copper

and learned how to mine it.

I lied to the police because
I didn't want my past life publicized.

Who are the others in the photograph?

Now look here, Martin,
I'm not paying you to cross-examine me.

No, you're paying me
because it looks like someone's after

the people in the photograph,
one of whom is you.

Now who are the others?

It's so long ago, I don't remember.

You're not helping me much,
are you?

One was an Italian,

and the other,
the South African guard.

I forgot their names.

Well, think about it, Mr. Wexler.

We've got to solve this
so I can collect my bonus.

Oh, and I need you alive

to sign the check.

One of the rarest views in town.

The food's not bad, either.

I'll take your word on the food.

What else is there to tell me?

That there's no record of Wexler
ever having been a prisoner of war.

I checked with Victoria whilst you were doing
your sterling investigation.

While I...

You do a lot of work
watching all the girls go by.

Stimulates the imagination.

Yeah.

I don't care what the records say.

That's when Wexler admits
the photo was taken.

Please!

Don't let's introduce a competitive note
into our association.

I'm sure your information is right.

It seems a file is missing
from the archives.

It vanished years ago and nobody
ever thought to ask why.

- Wexler?
- Probably.

But, uh,
neither of us will ever prove it.

- How many girls don't you know?
- Good lord, hundreds.

There's hope for me then.

There's hope for you anyway, old bean.

- Am I interrupting?
- Not at all, sit down.

Thank you.

The inspector was just leaving,
weren't you, old boy?

Oh, yes.

Unfortunately,
every day at this hour,

I have to report to my commissioner,
who rather disapproves of me.

- Can't imagine why.
- However, before I go, um,

one piece of information.

We managed to trace the owner
of the car that went over the cliff.

He's a farmer called Vanberger
who lives in Oudtshoorn.

- Have you spoken to him yet?
- By phone.

He claims the car was stolen,
but I'm not entirely satisfied.

We'll have to see.
Bye-bye.

- Good-bye.
- Bye.

Thanks for saving my job.

Oh, don't fool yourself.

When Wexler feels safe again,
he'll fire you.

Then I'll have to start looking
for another job, won't I?

How far is this Oudtshoorn?

About two hours by road.

But I can arrange for you
to get there even quicker.

Get me Oudtshoorn-85, please.

I don't understand.
I only had it serviced yesterday.

Maybe somebody wants to get
to Oudtshoorn before we do.

You like to move fast,
don't you, Steve?

It's my business.

And in private life?
Same rule?

Private life,
it takes two make the rule.

I remember that.

Here's the trouble, Miss Swinson...
fractured fuel pipe.

Any other planes available?

There's a Cessna over there.
She's all gassed up.

- Can we use it?
- Sure, help yourself.

Okay, let's go.

Table Mountain is clear.
No cloud over the Devil's Peak.

No cloud anywhere.

Stop disturbing the pilot.

I've only had my license a month.

Now she tells me.

What is this fellow?

- An ostrich farmer?
- That's right.

This is where
the feather dusters come from.

Yes?
You want me or something?

Is your name Vanberger?

That's right.

I'd like to talk to you for a moment.

Well, I'm pretty busy,

but if you come on in,

you can talk while I'm working.

My name's Martin.
This is Miss Swinson.

- Hello.
- How do you do?

Well, Mr. Martin,
what can I do for you?

I hear you had a car stolen
from you the other day.

Oh, yes, my runabout.

Wish I could find the man
who took it.

Do you know anything about these birds,
Miss Swinson?

- No.
- Well, you should do.

The ladies started our ostrich farming
by their craze for the feathers.

When did you start farming?

Thank you.

After the war.

Oh.

It's quite painless,
like shearing a sheep.

Yeah, well, about that car.
Let's get back to that.

If it doesn't bother me, Mr. Martin,

why does it bother you?

How about this photograph?

- Does that bother you?
- What about it?

You ever see it before?

No.

This man with the rifle,
isn't that you?

No.

Jim?

Vanberger, just three days ago,

the colored man in this photograph
was murdered.

Too bad.

Well, I'm very busy.
I've got to go and check some eggs.

What's he doing?

He'll choke the poor thing.

Oh, you know,
ostriches swallow practically anything.

They're most vicious now
when they're breeding.

A frightened bird can attack
and kick a man to death.

Look, Mr. Martin,
whoever stole my car the other night

tried to kill me.

That's sad.

Now tell me about those nice people
in the picture.

All right.
There's Wexler...

I know about Wexler.
Who's the other?

Mario.

Mario Perelli.

So he's got a name.
And?

Italian prisoner of war.
He and Wexler worked on the farm.

Ben was foreman
and you were detailed as guard, right?

So you've got your facts.
I still don't see what's important.

Don't you?
Four people in that picture.

Ben was murdered,
Wexler's scared stiff,

and someone tried to murder you.

Where's Mario Perelli?

You're on the wrong track, mister.
He died 20 years ago.

Look, I'm as worried as anyone,
but I swear to you that Mario is dead.

A few days after that photograph was taken,
he committed suicide.

- Suicide? Why?
- Who knows?

Maybe he was homesick.
But it was suicide.

Look out!

Are you sure you won't stay the night?

No, I'm sorry, we've got to go.

But inspector Lean is coming soon.

Maybe you'd rather talk to him.

The ostriches escaping
was an accident.

Oh, yes.

Except that one your farm boys
is missing.

Oh, he'll turn up.

I doubt it.

Well, I've got to go make a phone call.

I'll see you in a minute.

Steve, he is frightened.

If only there was a way
of making him talk.

Yeah, he's frightened, all right.

And he also knows a lot more
than he's telling us.

Seems to be the habit around here.

- What do you mean?
- I mean Wexler.

He hires me
because he's frightened,

and then he tries to fire you
for helping me.

Come on, let's get in.

- Isn't that the boy from your farm?
- Yes, that's him.

Well, let's follow him.

Huh.

Looks like a cathedral.

- How far do these caves go?
- 16 miles.

The biggest subterranean caves
in the world.

We'll have a hard time
catching him in here.

- Steve...
- He's dead.

- Stay there.
- Steve, don't!

Steve!

Uh, I wouldn't do that, old boy.

What the devil are you doing here?

I thought it was time
I joined the active pursuit.

No, I mean in here.
What are you doing here?

Officially,
I'm supposed to ask the questions.

- Where's Vanberger?
- Dead.

Oh, dear, I always arrive too late.

- When?
- A few minutes ago.

Somebody shot him.

Now suppose you tell me exact...

All right.
I drove up from Capetown.

I saw your car leave the farm
and followed you here.

Let's have a look at the body.

Steve...

Thank God you're all right.

What's that?

When I came back,
I found this beside him.

One to go.

Wexler.

From now on,
I want double guard duty,

24 hours a day.

Get more men if you need them.

That's all.

Papa? I'm bored.

- Let's go to the beach.
- Gina, people are getting killed.

Don't get excited, Mr. Wexler.

If I want meddling advice,
I'll send for you.

Sorry.

Maybe Gina's idea isn't a bad one.

There's no point in barricading yourself
in the house night and day.

It seems I'll have to look after
my own security.

Where's Martin?
Anyone seen him?

- He's around.
- Oh.

Paul?
Massage my back.

How'd you like to be in there
with them?

Being in Wexler's private zoo
is no worse

than being on his payroll.

I don't know,

I have a feeling my zookeeper
pays more than your does.

Yes, you've got something there.

- Any news from Oudtshoorn?
- Not a trace.

My guess is the killer's
back in Capetown.

It's two hours by road
for a fast driver.

Fast driver.

Wexler can bar himself in,
but he's still vulnerable

until we can find the real truth

about the people in that photograph.

- I met Gina.
- Hmm?

She's a fast driver.

Gina's a fast lady altogether.

You'd better watch yourself with her,
old boy.

No.

What I mean about Gina
is that the only person

we can't connect in that photograph
is the dead Mario Perelli.

- Italian.
- So?

Well, Gina's Italian, or was.

Do you think
there's any connection?

Wexler adopted her as a child.
She was educated aboard.

I'll check on it.

She does stand to inherit millions.

It should be odd, wouldn't it,
if he caged himself in with a tigress?

- HI, Steve.
- Hello.

Just in time for a good swim, huh?

- You can change in the tent.
- Thank you.

- Coming?
- No thanks, I'll wait for the picnic.

- Good day, Mr. Anderson.
- Good day.

- Doctor.
- Hello.

No surgery today?

When my wealthiest patient
says swim, I swim.

Andy, you've worked with Wexler
for a long time.

- Not that long.
- How did he come to adopt Gina?

Well, she was about eight years old
when I first came to work here.

Nice kid, really.

You don't happen to know
who her father was.

No, why don't you ask Wexler?

It's not often we see you away
from the fleshpots of Capetown, inspector.

Mr. Wexler...

Perhaps the police could do something
about those trespassers.

- After all, it's a private beach.
- Maybe.

But you can't keep the sea private.

Shall we join the mermaid?

Don't you ever swim?

Oh, no, I prefer to watch.

Now what can you tell me about
this Mario Perelli?

The Italian prisoner?

There's nothing to tell.

If you stop lying,
we can start trying to protect you.

I've never asked
for your protection, inspector.

Shark!

Help!

Gina, are you all right?

Oh, God, I was frightened.

Be fair.

After all,
I hear it was a close shave.

- I dropped my spear gun.
- I think we all did.

My God, who's that?

Here.

It's Wexler.
That shark...

- It wasn't a shark.
- You're right about that.

Somebody got him with a spear gun.

He's dead.

Martin! Inspector!

I found this with my clothes.

And this time,
he killed the wrong man.

At least we know whoever did it
is on the beach.

Or is he?

I eliminate the two girls.

Helga absolutely.

But surely not Gina.

I considered her,
but she had no chance to kill Anderson.

Well, that's some progress,
inspector.

Can you think of any reason
why your doctor would want to kill you?

The money I pay him?

He'd be more interested
to keeping me alive.

Besides, there were a dozen others
on that beach.

We're trying to trace the speed boat
and recover the spear guns.

If you stopped hedging,
we could move faster.

Damn it, I've already...

If you want to stay alive,
just tell me one thing, Mr. Wexler.

The name of the man
you think is the murderer.

The answer lies here...

in this photograph.

All right, Gina.

That's enough.

You saved my life.

I know.
You said that three times already.

Steve, let's go somewhere,
you and me.

Steve, I think inspector Lean
was looking for you.

Oh, he's always looking for someone.

Then you should know how he feels.

Well, excuse me.

Poor Mr. Anderson.

You must be upset, Helga.

Yes, I liked him.
Didn't you?

He was a man
who should have known better.

I think that was not
for Mr. Anderson.

That was for Steve.

You're scared I'll take him
away from you.

This has gone far enough.
There are four men in this picture.

One died years ago.
Two got murdered.

There's only me.

- And the fifth man?
- There is no fifth man.

There must have been,

the person who doesn't appear
because he took the photograph.

Someone held the camera, Wexler.
Who was he?

If you won't cooperate, Mr. Wexler,
inspector Lean can't help you,

nor can I, not any of your guards.

Somebody's after your neck,
you and these others.

He's got them.
You're next.

Who took this photograph?

His name's Kramer,

a prisoner of war with me,
Hans Kramer.

No need checking up with Pretoria.

The last time I heard of him,
he was a game warden

at the private reserve at Mala Mala.

I'll be on the first plane in the morning.

Don't let me find you
in the next seat.

Okay, inspector, if you say so.

Steve, are you sure
you're doing the right thing?

Maybe this man Kramer
could be dangerous.

Well, so far,
they've tried to run me off a cliff,

knife me, and shoot me.

So I don't imagine Mala Mala
could be any more dangerous for me

- than it is right here in Capetown.
- Perhaps you're right.

But whatever happens,
I'm going to fly you up there.

Look, we've been all through that.
You're staying put.

It takes two to make the rules,
remember?

All right.
You win.

I'm terribly sorry.

Excuse me.
Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry.

Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry, I...

What is it, Rawlings?

- I'm frightfully sorry, sir.
- Stop apologizing.

- What do you want?
- Your plane, sir, it's due to...

Never mind about that.

I've been doing some very
interesting research here.

Yes, sir.

You'll never guess where this young lady

- was at 5:15 yesterday afternoon.
- No, sir.

In the motorboat off Wexler's
private beach.

It was her outboard we saw
just after the murder.

- In that case, sir...
- Exactly, Rawlings!

I think we'd better
take another look at that beach.

Will you be coming back?

Duty calls.

And so will I, my lollipop.
What's your phone number?

Why is it so important to beat
inspector Lean to this man?

Everybody should have a bank account
with 50 grand in it.

I see.
The bonus.

By my arithmetic,
that bonus adds up to a future.

I might even settle down,

buy a two-bedroom house.

Two bedrooms?

You better keep
your eyes on the road.

- Mr. Kramer?
- Kramer?

- You missed him by a day.
- Oh.

- Anything happen to him?
- Not that I know of.

He's gone off to a marauding lion
over at Moto.

- Is that far?
- About three hours' drive.

Come in for a drink,
and I'll show you where it is on the map.

- Thanks.
- Bad luck for Kramer.

He'd just got back from leave
in Capetown,

and by the sign of this lion,
he's a real killer.

How much further?

Oh, about an hour, I guess.

- Hot?
- Yes.

How about a drink?

Thanks.

Ah, that's better.

It all seems a long way away now,
doesn't it?

Wexler? Mm-hmm.

And Gina?

I thought you'd bring that up.

What about you and Anderson?

I liked him, that's all.

A nice, caring man
in that rather horrible household.

Helga, I think you like
that Wexler money

about as much as I do.

Why don't you clear out?

Oh, Steve!

You must have missed your way.

You are well off the main drag here.

Not if you're Hans Kramer.

Who are you?

I'm Steve Martin,
and this is Miss Spencer.

Yes?

Oh, I...

believe you used to know these men.

Who sent you?
Wexler?

Wexler's the only one alive
in that photograph.

There is a lion somewhere in the bush
wounded and dangerous.

I advise you to get out of here.

Ben was murdered
at the New Year's carnival.

Vanberger was shot two days ago.

I haven't seen those men in...

- 20 years?
- That's right.

We were on a prison farm together.

With a man named Mario Perelli
who committed suicide?

- Is that what Wexler told you?
- Isn't it true?

Mario died.
That's all I'm going to say.

The one person who met us
knows the truth.

Boss!

- Boss, come quick!
- It's the lion.

Take this.
Look after her.

I think they must have gone over there.

Please, try and tell me.

What happened to Mario Perelli?

Vultures.
Human vultures.

Was it Wexler?

He... killed him.

The rest...

of us stood by and let it happen.

Why?

Because we were frightened
or greedy or ashamed.

Mario was an engineer.

He had worked Africa before the war.

He had some plans.

He spoke of land in the north

where there was copper to be found.

Wexler built his fortune
on copper mines, didn't he?

One night...

some maps were stolen.

Mario accused Wexler.

The very next day,
he was found dead.

Wexler persuaded all of us
to fake his death.

Suicide.

For a price.

He paid off over the years,

took Ben into his household,

bought Vanberger his farm.

And you?

Nothing.

He sent a check for a lot of money once.

I sent it back.

All that kept me silent

was my own shame, my guilt.

Helga, there's brandy in the car.

What did I get out of it?

Seems to me, you were the only
honest man among them.

Honest?

I turned my back...

and let a man be branded a suicide.

I couldn't live with this.

Finally, two years ago,
I wrote a letter.

Who did you write to?

The one person who matters m...

most.

Kramer... who?

Nobody...

should grow up...

believing...

their father committed a mortal sin.

You can forget the brandy.

20 years, he fought his conscience.

Then he wrote a letter
to absolve his guilt.

Everything happened after that.

What did he tell you?

That Mario had a child.

Gina...

Don't talk so much, darling.

Listen to me...

Tell me you love me.

Gina, I want you to marry me.

I don't want to marry anybody.
Not yet, anyway.

Mm!

Fascinating things, aren't they?
What a way to kill a man.

Cheer up, Rawlings.
You did a great job collecting these.

Thank you, sir.

Funny thing, Rawlings.

We know for sure that one of these guns
was fired by Steve Martin.

But all the ones you collected
are still loaded.

Which leads one to believe
that someone was here before us.

Well?

Kramer's dead.

So Kramer was the man.

It's all over.

Not quite.

Then he, uh... he talked?

Enough.

Here's your bonus.

Doubled.

I'll book you on the first plane out.

Both of you,
if that's what you want.

That's the inspector.

Take your check and leave him to me.

That's stupid.
You'll prove nothing against me.

- People concerned are dead.
- Because you bought them.

It'll be your word against mine.
I'm an important man in this country.

You'd better get out
before I make things unpleasant for you.

Wexler, you don't seem to understand.
The case isn't over yet.

Correction, old boy.
I think we're practically there.

It's logical.
If Kramer...

- Kramer didn't kill anyone.
- That's just what I've been trying to say.

Before Kramer died,
he said that Mario had a child.

- And Gina...
- Not Gina, old boy.

You've got the motive,
but not the murderer.

The person who shot this gun at Anderson
by mistake, that's the murderer.

A good shot, too,
good enough to kill Vanberger.

If Mario had a child, I...

Papa!

Don't try it, Martin!
I couldn't miss Helga from here, or Gina!

- So Mario had a son.
- That's right.

I wanted to kill him slowly
so he'd know why.

But you changed all that!
You're coming with me.

Steve, he'll kill you!

Get in!
Get in!

Come on!

- Don't shoot.
- Why not?

What have you got to lose by talking?

I know all about Wexler now,
how rotten he was.

How did you find out about him?

Kramer wrote to me in Vienna
while I was studying,

how I had to plan it
all very carefully, Martin.

I came to South Africa,
got to know Wexler,

and finally became
his personal doctor.

Well, when you did find out,
why didn't you go to the police?

It was so long ago.
He was so powerful.

And the police had only
my word to go on.

- Why did you have to kill the others?
- They were paid to keep quiet.

They were as much to blame.

And I wanted Wexler to feel
his own death coming to him slowly.

But you forced my hand!

You wanted to marry me, Paul.

Well...

this was my final plan to get the money.

Then I meant nothing to you?

Did any man mean anything
to you, Gina?

Look, Paul, you can't run anymore.
It's a dead end up there.

That's right.
It's a dead end.

But if I'm not going to get the money,
nobody will have it!

Don't move!

Listen to me, Paul.
You're sick.

As a doctor, you should know that.

Let Gina go and give yourself up.
They won't hang you.

Won't hang me?

Why should they?

I only did what the law should have done
20 years ago.

I spent many years trusting no one,

only myself.

Why should I trust you?

Because I know all about you now.
I can help you.

If you'll let me.

All right, Martin.
Go back and fetch the police.

Better still,
let's all go down together.

No, Martin.
Let me stay up here with Gina.

It's so peaceful.

Just let me think by myself.

All right, you stay up here and think.

But let me take Gina with me.

You're mad like all the others!

You want power and my money!
You won't get it!

Get back!

You better get the climbers out.

Help me.

Help me.

Help me.

Help me.

I couldn't let you go
without saying "bon voyage."

Well, that's very kind of you, old bean.

And getting a kiss
from the bride, of course.

You are going to be a bride?

Provided we don't fight
between here and New York.

I guess we'd better be going.

Don't work too hard.

Send me a piece of wedding cake!

Of course, I'd prefer a bridesmaid!

Hello.
I'm afraid you've just missed them.

I've said my goodbyes.
Would you like a lift?

Thank you.
Are you going anywhere special?

It's almost lunchtime.

So it is.

I know a most charming restaurant
near Bikini Beach.

Would you like that?

Now that you're the richest girl in town,
I'll allow you to buy me lunch.

You know, inspector,
I've always liked you.

How splendid.

Why so sad?

It's such a long way to New York.

Can't we get married in London?

Definitely not.

Oh, Steve, why not?

Because we can get married right here
on board ship if we ask the captain.

- Shall we?
- Yes.

All right.