All language subtitles for wwwwyy

♪ Why must we meet ♪

♪ In the shadows of Paris ♪

♪ Where hardly a star ♪

♪ Seems to shine? ♪

♪ Why can't we meet ♪

♪ In the sunlight of Paris ♪

♪ Where Paris can see ♪

♪ You are mine? ♪

♪ Have you come to me ♪

♪ From another ♪

♪ Whose lips ♪

♪ You have tried? ♪

♪ Do you still belong ♪

♪ To another? ♪

♪ Is that ♪

♪ Why we hide? ♪

♪ Why am I cold ♪

♪ In the sunlight of Paris ♪

♪ Where laughter and song ♪

♪ Fill the sky? ♪

♪ Why am I warm ♪

♪ In the shadows of Paris ♪

♪ When I know ♪

♪ That dawn ♪

♪ Means goodbye? ♪

♪ Have you come to me ♪

♪ From another ♪

♪ Whose lips ♪

♪ You have tried? ♪

♪ Do you still belong ♪

♪ To another? ♪

♪ Is that ♪

♪ Why we hide? ♪

♪ Why am I cold ♪

- ♪ In the sunlight of Paris ♪
- Maria!

♪ Where laughter and song ♪

♪ Fill the sky? ♪

♪ Why am I warm ♪

♪ In the shadows of Paris ♪

♪ When I know ♪

♪ That dawn means ♪

♪ Goodbye? ♪

Commissioner Dreyfus.

Ah. Yes, my darling.

I was just about to call you.
I'm on my way.

I've got the cheese
and the beaujolais.

What?

My love.
Kiss the children for me.

Huh?

Hold on.

Yes?

Your wife is on
the other line.

Tell her I'm out of town.

Yes, my love.
I'll be with you in 20 minutes.

Monsieur Dreyfus. Oh, monsieur.

A catastrophe. We've just had
a report of a shooting

at the Chateau
de la Pierre Blanche.

So?

- Monsieur Ballon.
- What, Ballon the millionaire?

- Yes.
- That is a catastrophe.

Oh, no. I mean, it's not
so much the shooting

- that is a catastrophe.
- No?

No. You see, when the report
came in, there were few details,

just that someone had been
shot, and the address.

I didn't, until a
few moments ago, realize

that it was the home of
the millionaire Ballon.

- So?
- So I made a terrible mistake.

Who did you assign to the case?

- Clouseau.
- Oh, my God.

Argh!

- Inspector Clouseau.
- Good evening, sir.

- What is your name?
- My name is Henri LaFarge.

Make a note of that.

- You are the butler?
- I am the head butler.

The head butler.

Cross out "butler"
and put down "head butler".

This is Monsieur Ballon.

Monsieur Ballon,
it is a great honor.

Oh, excuse me.

I am Inspector Clouseau
of the Sûreté.

I must apologize for my appearance.
I had a slight accident.

Well, uh, would you like
a bathrobe or something?

Oh, no, nothing at all. It's just
a little dampness. It will soon go.

Monsieur Ballon,
you reported a shooting?

- No, I didn't. Maurice did.
- Maurice?

- Yes, he's guarding Maria.
- Ah.

I was at the airport at the time
the shooting occurred.

I've just arrived.

Of course, of course, of course.
That will not be necessary.

I shall have this case
cleared up in a few seconds.

Would you like to
examine the body?

- I would be delighted.
- This way, sir.

- You are Maurice?
- Yes, monsieur.

Monsieur Ballon said
you were guarding someone.

Yes, monsieur.

This pen has been
fired recently.

- And you are?
- Maria Gambrelli.

- I am Inspector Clouseau.
- How do you do?

See what else you can find.
What are you doing?

- I'm checking the gun, Inspector.
- This is my pistol pen.

- I know it's your pen.
- Get your own pistol pen, please.

This is my own personal one.

Don't look in here.
Look outside.

- What did you say?
- Nothing, monsieur.

All right, you can go.

Now then.

um...

Please.

You found the body?

- Yes, monsieur.
- Mm.

He's a friend of yours?

- Have you any idea who killed him?
- I've no idea.

- She killed him.
- What?

That's not true.

- She says it's not true.
- She is lying.

- You watch your tongue.
- I heard four shots, monsieur.

- You heard four shots.
- Yes.

You did not see four...

I am sorry.

- You did not see these four shots.
- No, monsieur.

No. Well, then, you could not
possibly know who fired those shots.

The door was locked,
monsieur, from the inside.

So, what does that prove?

When I broke it open, I found
Miguel where you see him now

and Maria with a gun
in her hand.

- With the gun in her hand?
- Still smoking.

Did you have the gun
in your hand?

- And was it still smoking?
- I suppose so, but...

I don't know how it got there.
I really don't.

- Ridiculous.
- I will decide what is ridiculous.

- Monsieur, you surely don't believe...
- I believe everything.

And I believe nothing.

I suspect everyone.

And I suspect no one.

I gather the facts,
examine the clues...

and before you know it,
the case is solved.

Oh, yes. There is much here that does not
meet the eye. That is quite obvious.

- What was that you said?
- Nothing, monsieur.

All right. You can go now.

Yes, monsieur.

But do not try to leave. Everyone
in this household is under suspicion.

Yes, monsieur.

Now, supposing
you tell me what happened.

He was having
difficulty with the buttons.

- Buttons?
- The buttons on my dress.

Well, you know that is
very strange because

there are no buttons
on this dress.

Well, that is because he
was having difficulty with them.

So he just tore the dress off.

- He attacked you.
- Oh, no.

I would have helped him
but-- but he couldn't wait.

The buttons are probably
all over the room.

He was so impetuous.
A passionate Spaniard, you know?

And he tore your dress off, eh?

Yes.

And then suddenly someone
opened the door.

And Miguel leapt up and...

Well, that is the last
I remember

until Maurice came in
and found me with the gun.

Hmm. Yes.

There is, if you'll excuse me,

something here that I
do not quite understand.

What don't you understand?

I don't understand...

when you say
that you don't remember.

- I guess I was unconscious.
- Unconscious?

- I have a bump.
- A beump?

- Yes.
- Where? Let me see.

Oh, yes.

I don't know how it happened
but it is so painful.

That is beautiful perfume
you are wearing.

- It's bath oil.
- Is it?

I really can't figure it out.
Someone must have hit me.

Yes. You have received a
mild concussion with that beump.

- You have cream on your nose.
- What? Oh, that's nothing.

- It's from that thing over there.
- You're all wet.

- What? Oh, yes.
- Is it raining?

No, it's just that
stupid driver of mine

parked too close
to the fountain.

You should get out of
these clothes immediately.

You'll catch your death
of pneumonia, you will.

Yes, yes, I probably will,

but it's all part of life's
rich pageant, you know.

We police have to put up
with a lot of things

in the course of our duties

that in private life
one wouldn't normally tolerate.

Why don't
we have a smoke?

Helps to calm the nerves

and enable us
to think more clearly.

- It is lovely perfume you're wearing.
- That's not perfume. That's bath oil.

Oh, is it? Well, it's very beautiful.

- Thank you.
- I can still smell it.

- Now, where were we?
- My bump.

Beump, that's right.

That you received
when somebody hit you.

- Or, at least, we presume somebody hit you.
- How else could it have happened?

Well, you see,
in the police force,

first, we presume,
after, we find out.

That is the way we work.
Always work that way.

Because if we work
the other way...

Goodness, it's a
bit stuffy in here.

- Your coat!
- Yes, it is my coat.

- But it's on fire!
- What?

My coat is on fire!

My goodness, I'm burning!

- Clouseau?
- Argh!

He fell out of the window!

Clouseau?

Are you all right?

Mm? Oh, yes. I'm perfectly
all right, thank you.

- In that case, you may go home.
- Go home?

- You are relieved.
- Relieved?

I am taking charge.
Good night, Clouseau.

Good night, sir.

- Argh!
- I'm sorry, sir.

You idiot. You fool. It's a good job
I was able to check my reflexes.

I might have killed you
with a karate chop.

You...

you fool!

Just for that you are...
you're off the case.

Back to town.

When can I have the report?

I'll give you the report
first thing in the morning.

That'd be good.

- Excuse me. Monsieur Ballon?
- Yes.

- I'm Commissioner Dreyfus.
- Ah. Well, where's Inspector Clouseau?

I'm personally taking charge
of this investigation.

Oh, I see.

I promise that you
and Madame Ballon

will be inconvenienced
as little as possible

and that the Ballon name
will not suffer

the sensationalism of the press.

He was a strange fellow,
but I rather liked him.

- Huh?
- I mean Clouseau.

Oh. Yes, yes. He's a...
he's an extraordinary man.

Argh!

Argh!

Inspector Clouseau's residence.

One moment, please.
Commissioner Dreyfus.

- Hello, Inspector Clouseau here.
- Get down here immediately.

- You're back on the Gambrelli case.
- The Gambrelli case?

Maria Gambrelli.
The maid who killed the chauffeur.

Oh, Maria Gambrelli,
the maid. Yes, yes.

Excellent. I'll be down there
right away. Thank you.

Well, Kato,
I am back on the case.

I tell you, Maria Gambrelli is beautiful.
Innocent. Hah!

By the way, Kato, that was a
very good workout today.

You're showing
marked improvement.

Every day you're getting better!

Facts, Hercule, facts.

Nothing matters but the facts.

Without them, the science
of criminal investigation

is nothing more
than a guessing game.

You listen to me, Hercule,
and you will learn something.

Now, then.
The facts in this case are...

the body of the chauffeur was found
in the bedroom of the second maid. Fact.

Cause of death - four bullets
in the chest. Fact.

The bullets were fired at close range
from a.25 calibre Beretta automatic. Fact.

Maria Gambrelli was discovered
with the murder weapon in her hand. Fact.

The murder weapon was registered in
the name of the deceased, Miguel Ostos,

and was kept, mark you, in the glove
compartment of the Ballon Rolls-Royce.

Fact.

Now, then. Members of the household staff
have testified that Miguel Ostos beat...

Careful, you fool. You broken my pointing
stick. I've got nothing to point with now.

..have testified that Miguel Ostos
beat Maria Gambrelli frequently.

And, now, finally comes
the sworn statement

of Monsieur and Madame Ballon,

as well as all the
members of the staff,

each of them with
perfect alibis.

Now then, Hercule, what is the
inescapable conclusion?

- Maria Gambrelli killed the chauffeur.
- What? You idiot.

- Impossible. She's protecting someone.
- How do you know that?

- Instinct.
- But the facts...

You are forgetting
the most important fact.

- Motive.
- He beat her.

- He was Spanish.
- He tore her dress off.

Don't be ridiculous. Would you kill
somebody who tore your dress off?

- No, I suppose not.
- No, of course not.

No, no. There is no doubt
in my mind whatsoever, Hercule.

Maria Gambrelli is most definitely
protecting somebody.

Find that somebody,
and you have found the murderer

and I shall find the murderer
before the day is out.

Maria Gambrelli will tell me
who he is. Oh, yes.

- What was that you said?
- uh, nothing.

I see. All right.
Well, you can go, Hercule.

Argh!

I don't understand.

Why in the name of heaven did you
reassign Clouseau to the Gambrelli case?

That is a good question,
and it deserves an answer.

But what I'm about to tell you
must remain in the strictest confidence.

This morning, at six o'clock,
I received a phone call from a superior.

I was informed that certain extremely
influential parties were interested

in having Clouseau back
on the case.

- I had no choice but to comply.
- Amazing.

If I were to divulge
the identity of the caller,

you'd realize
how amazing it really is.

But why?

That's another good question,
and for that I have no answer.

Ah. They're bringing in
the Gambrelli woman.

Sit down, Miss Gambrelli.

Sit down, Miss Gambrelli.

Now, where were...

Good morning, monsieur.

- Oh. Good morning, Miss Gambrelli.
- Good morning.

- You slept well?
- No.

- Wonderful.
- It is not easy to sleep in prison.

It isn't? No, no, no,
of course it isn't. No, no, no.

We shall have to do something
about that, won't we?

uh...

Stupid box. Yes.

But, anyway, first,
a few simple questions.

- Is it all right if I smoke?
- Oh, yes, of course, yes.

- Have one of mine.
- Thank you.

- Ah.
- Well, have one of mine.

Mm? Oh, thank you.

That's very kind of you.
Very, very kind of you.

- That's all right.
- Allow me.

- Thank you. Other way around.
- Hm? What? Oh.

It tastes very bad
when you do that.

Well, now...

Are you comfortable?

They should have chairs
like this in the prison.

Yes, yes.
Most certainly they should.

As I recall, the furniture is
deplorable. Extremely bad taste.

Terrible. One might
as well sit on the floor.

Yes, yes, it's really high time that somebody
did something about it, don't you think?

Sure.

As a matter of fact, I will do
something about it this very moment.

Give me the prison
superintendent immediately.

Yes, sir.

You know, sometimes it's
necessary to cut through the red tape

and strike directly at
the heart of the matter.

Prison is bad enough
without uncomfortable furniture.

Yes?

Superintendent,
this is Inspector Clouseau.

When are you going
to do something

about that terrible
furniture in your prison? Hmm?

Well, we are not savages.
This is not the Middle Ages.

I mean, you are running a house
of correction, not a torture chamber.

That made him think. Well, I suggest you take
the matter under serious consideration.

I mean, if one is to cope
with a modern criminal,

it is necessary to
use modern methods.

I mean, you can't have
a contemporary prison

without, uh,
contemporary furniture.

Yes. Well, that's
my opinion, anyway.

Oh. And the same to you,
Superintendent.

Filthy swine.

You're not at all
like a policeman.

Your dossier.

I always keep my important
documents under lock and key

because one can
never be too sure.

Now, here...

Oh.

Oh, uh...

Excuse me.

Stupid.

Oh.

Now, um...

Miss Gambrelli, your dossier contains
some very, very interesting facts.

It seems that you have known
this Miguel Ostos for quite some time.

Yes.

- And were you in love with him?
- Yes.

You're in love
with the man that raped you?

That what?

Testimony of Georges Duval, gardener.
Referring to Ostos, you described him,

and I quote, as "that crazy Spaniard
who raped me in my father's field".

He did not rape me.

- He did not force you?
- Well, you see, I tripped over a root,

and I grabbed Miguel to keep me
from falling, and somehow we both fell.

I cried a little bit afterwards but that
wasn't because I was sorry it happened.

- It was something he said.
- He insulted you.

Oh, no. He lit a cigarette
and took a long puff, and...

Tell me, why do so many men
smoke afterwards?

No wonder tobacco
companies get rich.

Yes, I must admit I had never
thought of it quite that way.

Hmm. Last night, it was to be our last night.
It was all finished.

- You were leaving him?
- Oh, no. He was leaving me.

Poor Miguel. He was really in one
of his moods last night.

First he babbled in Spanish,
and then he cried.

You know, he really
broke down and cried.

- You don't say.
- I do say.

And then when I tried to console him,
make him feel better,

suddenly he was tearing off my clothes
and cursing like a madman.

Hmm.

Very strange.

Very strange.

The thing I don't understand...

Ostos was leaving you

and yet by your own account

he was behaving like
a jealous madman.

Well, you see, I thought
if he was leaving me he'd suffer,

thinking that I was alone.

And... and so I told him
there was someone else.

Mm-hmm.

It was a lie. I admit that.

But only out of kindness.

Ah!

- Oh, uh...
- I'm sorry.

- It's nothing at all, really. Stupid tailor.
- Beautiful suit.

Yes, I know, but don't worry.
A few stitches and you'll never know.

Miguel? Ah!

Hercule?

Must I go back to prison?

unfortunately, yes.

But... don't give up hope.

- What do you want?
- You sent for me.

Of course I sent for you!

Goodbye.

Goodbye, my dar...
uh, Miss Gambrelli.

Well, there's no doubt in my mind
she is shielding someone.

- Do you think you can break her down?
- Mm.

Given enough time, I could
have her eating out of my hand.

Yes, anyway, we have no time.

I must catch this man
before he leaves the country.

- But if you don't know who he is...
- She will lead me to him.

- Release her.
- Release her?

Of course. How can
she lead me to him

if she's still in prison,
you idiot?

- But Commissioner Dreyfus...
- I will assume complete responsibility.

Release her immediately. I will
apprehend this culprit within 24 hours.

Argh!

Get me out of here.
Quick, nurse, the screens.

Look, I've got Africa
all over my hand now.

Nice balloons.

Do you have a licence
to sell these balloons?

Licence?

- Yes?
- Good morning, monsieur.

Good morning, Georges. Is there
something I can do for you?

Well, yes. And perhaps there's
something I can do for you.

What could you
possibly do for me?

You remember the night
of the murder?

- Is that a rhetorical question?
- What?

Now, come along, Georges.
What is it you want?

I saw you climbing down
from Maria's room.

- You have sharp eyes.
- Oh, yes.

And a big stomach. It's so hard
to keep it filled, prices these days.

Are we going to discuss
the national economy

or will you presently
come to the point?

The point is 100,000 francs.

You know, for the groceries.

Then perhaps my eyes
will grow small again.

Yes. Well, we'll certainly have to
do something about your stomach.

Hey!

Nice dog. Nice dog.

Nice doggie.

Oh. Excuse me. I just happened
to be passing and I...

Ah. Ah.

Ah.

Ah, my little...

You have been cutting flowers.
You must have been cutting something.

- There's blood all over your cutting shears.
- Ah. Ah.

That's very strange.

Ah!

Ah.

Facts, Hercule. Facts.

Behind them lies the whole
fabric of deductive truth.

Now, Hercule, let us
examine these facts.

One - she was found with the
murder weapon in her hand.

Two - the murder weapon
was fresh with blood.

Three - there were no fingerprints
on the murder weapon other than hers,

and four - all the members of the Ballon
household staff have perfect alibis.

Now then, Hercule,
what do these facts add up to?

Maria Gambrelli killed
Georges the gardener.

You are an idiot.

Only a fresh-faced novice would
come up with a conclusion like that.

- But the facts...
- Listen.

Whoever killed Miguel
killed Georges the gardener.

And he did it
to cover up the first crime.

Now, what he is trying to do
is lay the blame

at the foot of this--
this poor servant girl.

Well, who do you suspect?

I suspect everyone.

- I suppose that is possible.
- Possible?

What do you mean "possible"?
I deal in certainties.

I have only to break her down, make
her admit she's protecting somebody

and then force her
to divulge his identity.

There can be no more
cat and mouse.

No more subtle interrogation.

For her own sake,
and for the sake of justice,

I will resort to any means,
short of brute force,

to drag it out of her, Hercule.

True, she will suffer.

But in the end she will be free
and we will have our killer.

- You released her again?
- Yes, sir.

Well, shall we settle
this thing now,

or do you intend
making me late for the recital?

We can't just fire her.
She has given us no cause.

Cause? We are up to our necks
in dead bodies.

What are you waiting for?
The last act of Hamlet?

If you're going to compare
the Ballon household

with a Shakespearean tragedy,

I suggest that Macbeth
would be more appropriate.

Oh, darling, my cue ball.

That was Madame Ballon.

Follow her. When you have discovered
her destination, call me immediately.

Inspector Clouseau.

- Good evening, Monsieur Ballon.
- Good evening, Inspector.

If you don't mind,
there are one or two

questions I would like to ask.

- Of course.
- Some points that need clearing up.

Certainly. Do you
play billiards, by any chance?

Billiards. Oh, well, yes, I have played
some billiards in my time.

I find that it makes for a more relaxed and
friendly conversation. How about you?

- Yes.
- Take a cue.

Ah. A cue. Yes.

Hmm.

That should do.

- That's very strange.
- I think you'd be better off

with an ordinary cue.

- That's what we call a bridge.
- Ah, the bridge cue, yes.

Yes, I much prefer the good,
old-fashioned, plain cue, you know.

Yes, yes.

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

Oh, that's all right.
I've broken a few in my time.

Try this one.
This is my favorite cue.

You'll find that it's great
for curved shots.

You, uh, had some
questions, Inspector.

Yes.

I had rather hoped
to have a talk with your wife.

- Well, she's out. You just missed her.
- On the contrary.

She just missed me
in the driveway going out. Ah!

Monsieur Ballon,
did you not state...

that, uh... on the night
of the murder...

you had, uh, just arrived from
London on the 11 o'clock flight?

Yes. Why do you ask?

It was cancelled
due to bad weather.

I arrived on an earlier flight.

I put it to you directly,
Monsieur Ballon,

that it was you who
murdered Miguel Ostos.

Don't be ridiculous.

Oh.

uh... look,
if you can just move...

That's it. These curved cues
can be difficult.

Now pull.

Yes, I disliked
Miguel intensely.

But I am not in the habit
of killing people

merely because I dislike them.
Oh, I beg your pardon.

As long as you
know about the cancelled flight,

I may as well
tell you the whole thing.

The night that
Miguel was killed,

I arranged for him to meet
the 11 o'clock plane.

I arrived on the nine o'clock.

Now, he would be on his way to the
airport while I was on my way home.

My wife was at a dinner party.

This would give me a whole hour,
at least, alone in the house.

For what?

For Maria.

What?

Does that surprise you?

Then I submit, Inspector Ballon,
that you arrived home,

found Miguel
with Maria Gambrelli,

and killed him in
a rit of fealous jage.

I admit to the affair,
but to kill for her?

- Would you kill for her?
- Of course... uh, not.

- Well, it's still your shot.
- Yes. Mm.

Ah. Mm.

Mm.

I'm dreadfully sorry,
Monsieur Ballon.

I appear to have grazed
your billiard table.

Telephone, monsieur,
for Inspector Clouseau.

Ah, that would be for me.

Yes? This is Inspector Clouseau.

All right. If you stay there
I will come over immediately.

Monsieur Ballon,
I wonder if you could oblige.

I have to meet my assistant
and I am without a car.

- Oh, well, I'll have Pierre drive you.
- Excellent.

Well, I suppose it's the end of our game.
Do you mind putting my cue away?

Have Pierre bring the car around.

Your car is ready, monsieur.

Look, I'm, uh, dreadfully sorry,
Monsieur Ballon.

Oh, please don't
concern yourself, Inspector.

Maurice will do it for you.

Let go of my back, you...

Thank you, monsieur.

Really, Monsieur Ballon,
whoever invented that rack

should have his head examined.

Well...

- We will continue at another time.
- A pleasure at any time.

I suggest you have your
architect investigated as well.

Madame Ballon is in
apartment 12, second floor.

You stay here. If I'm not out within
ten minutes, send reinforcements. Alright?

Argh!

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

I'm the game warden.

- Do you have a hunting licence?
- Hunting licence?

He was shooting crows?

He was disguised as a hunter in
order to watch the Ballon house.

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Give me ten men like Clouseau
and I could destroy the world.

- Where is he now?
- I don't know.

After I got his release,
he got a phone call.

He ran out of his office saying he had an
important lead that would crack the case.

This case is already so full of cracks
I guess one more won't make any difference, hmm?

- François?
- Yes, Commissioner?

I've just cut off my thumb.
Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Now then. You say you followed Maria
Gambrelli to this godforsaken place?

She took a taxi this far,
then I followed her up the pathway

to the entrance
to Camp Sunshine.

- Camp Sunshine?
- Yes.

I would have called you,

but then I perceived Dudu
the maid also enter the camp.

- up the path, you say?
- Yes, but Inspector...

Look, you return to the Ballon residence
and look for more clues.

Inspector...

I will try to see what is afoot
at this... Camp Sunshine.

- Inspector, I think I should...
- Hurry up, man. There's not a second to lose.

Good afternoon.

Hmm.

I am Inspector Clouseau
of the Sûreté.

Oh.

Tell me, have you anyone registered here
by the name of Maria Gambrelli?

Gambrelli. Yes, I believe
she checked in about an hour ago.

Yes. Gambrelli.

- 11:45.
- Where can I find her?

Well, she could be most anywhere, but
my guess would be the recreation area.

Thank you.

- Can I ask you something?
- Yes?

Have you been... swimming?

Why, yes. How did you know?

It is my business to know.

Ah, ah, ah. And where
do you think you're going?

I do not think, sir.
I know where I am going.

I am going to
the recreation area.

- Not like that, you're not.
- What was that you said?

I said you're not going
to the recreation area like that.

- I am Inspector Clouseau of the Sûreté.
- How do you do? I'm Turk.

I am here on official business,

and I am looking for someone
at the recreation area.

Not unless you
take off your clothes.

- You, sir, are under arrest.
- Arrest? What for?

For making lewd and
suggestive remarks

to an official
of the French government.

- Lewd and suggestive remarks?
- Also for indecent exposure.

- Doesn't anyone wear any clothes around here?
- No.

- What?
- This is a nudist colony.

- A nudist colony?
- Right.

And nobody gets in unless
they take their clothes off.

What, all of them?

All of them.
Right down to your mustache.

Argh!

- Are you the one who called the police?
- I?

Someone called from this camp
and reported a murder.

Murder?

- Tell the men to spread out and search the camp.
- One of your men is already in the camp.

- One of my men?
- Yes. Inspector Clouseau.

Hmm.

- Ah!
- I'm so sorry, I can't understand.

Murder?

Oh!

Pssst!

- Beg your pardon?
- Clouseau!

Over here.

Quick.

Listen, that's Dudu.

- Dudu?
- She's dead.

Dead? Dudu?

Come out! Out.

Round up everyone.

And get me that idiot,
that is if you can find him.

Straight away, sir.

If someone has been murdered here,
please, let it be Clouseau, hmm?

What are we going to do?

We must do something.
We can't leave here without our clothes.

I am getting cold.
Just look at those goose pimples.

Clouseau!

- I know how you feel but...
- I'm having a bad dream. It's a nightmare.

Believe me, it's nothing
to what would have happened

if they'd caught us.

- What do we do now?
- Well, you keep down,

and then they can only see
the top half of me.

Perhaps they will think that
I have just come from the beach,

from a swim, you know.
And, uh...

- We can't just keep driving around?
- No.

- Please.
- No, no, that's right.

I will take us to my apartment and
somehow I will try to get us inside.

Please, whatever happens,
try to keep calm.

I can assure you
she's not in the house.

I'm sorry, Monsieur Ballon, but it
is necessary that I see for myself.

She has not been
in the house all day?

All I can tell you is that she
left before I did this morning

and she wasn't here
when I got back an hour ago.

- Henri can verify that.
- Henri?

- The head butler.
- I'd like to talk to Henri.

Well, he could have verified it.

- Only a few more blocks now.
- I feel like I'm losing my mind.

I think I'm going to start screaming
and I won't be able to stop.

Please, please, try to
hold on to yourself.

Control yourself, please.

You are off the Gambrelli case.

And you will report for duty
to the Department of Records.

Department of Records?

- In Martinique.
- What?

Tomorrow morning,
or you can forget your pension.

But that is not fair.
I was only doing my duty.

And I am right, you will see.
Maria Gambrelli is not a murderer.

There is something
personal in this.

Yes. Deeply personal.

I hate you. Every little
bit of you. Now get out!

You want me to leave?

You are making
a terrible mistake.

If Maria Gambrelli is not a
murderer, and I say she is not,

you are sending an innocent girl
to the guillotine!

Excuse me, François.

And another thing!

Martinique?

He's on his way.

What about those influential parties
that wanted Clouseau on the case?

Whatever they do to me now,
it is not half of what he has done already.

Ah.

Besides, I feel certain I know
who is behind those influential requests.

- Ballon.
- Ballon?

It's obvious he was having
an affair with Maria Gambrelli.

Most likely.

At first I couldn't understand
why anyone

would want a man like Clouseau
to be in charge of a murder case,

especially a case
of this importance.

- But why would Ballon?
- He wouldn't.

unless he was
protecting someone.

Now if you were protecting someone, who
would be the perfect man on the case?

A fool. A detective
who is a complete and utter fool.

- Clouseau?
- Of course.

If Maria Gambrelli is convicted,
Ballon is up to his ears in a very nasty scandal

and Clouseau was his insurance policy
against such a scandal.

Well, he has gone.

Ah.

I feel like a child again.

It's an interesting theory,
but what if you are wrong?

I know it's an extremely
remote possibility,

but what if you are wrong and
Ballon is not protecting Maria Gambrelli?

What if she is innocent,
as Clouseau claims?

- Ridiculous.
- But a possibility.

What if Ballon is
protecting someone else,

or what if Ballon himself
is the guilty party?

- It's a sadistic thing to suggest.
- But, if only for the sake of discussion,

what if you are wrong,

and Clouseau - a fool,
a complete and utter fool...

- I'd be ruined.
- It's something to consider.

- François?
- Yes, Commissioner?

Would you please
call for a doctor?

Are you ill?

I seem to have stabbed myself
with a letter opener.

Argh!

Kato, you fool. Get off of me,
will you? Get off me!

Kato, what are
you doing? Not now.

Kato. Release me, you fool.

Inspector Clouseau's residence.

Give me that telephone,
you idiot.

- Inspector Clouseau here.
- This is the commissioner.

You are back
on the Gambrelli case.

Well, Kato,
I'm back on the case.

Now to set the trap,
catch the killer,

and prove to the world that Maria
Gambrelli is innocent of murder.

Hello? This is Inspector Clouseau. Connect me
with my assistant immediately, will you?

I am ashamed of myself, Kato.
I forgot the first rule of self-defense.

No matter what the circumstances,
always anticipate the unexpected.

Had you been a real assassin,
you might have killed me.

We're going to have to
accelerate our training program.

You must learn to attack me
whenever and wherever I least expect it

and you must give no quarter.
understand?

Hello, Hercule?
This is Clouseau.

I am back on the case.
Right, release Maria Gambrelli at once

and make a reservation
for two, tonight, 8:00, at the Café Olé.

Right. Bye bye.

Kato, unpack my things
and lay out my new blue suit.

I'm going to have a lovely hot soak
in a nice warm bath,

and I will plan out my strategy.

Argh!

He released her again.

And he's taking her
out to dinner.

Every paper in Paris
has the story,

including the
Christian Science Monitor,

and he gave them the story.

You see, he claims
she's protecting her lover

and the best way to force him
into the open is to make him jealous.

Jealous!

That nincompoop.
That megalomaniac.

He's setting the science of criminal
investigation back a thousand years.

And I can't do
anything about it.

- Why not?
- Why not?

What if he's right?

- What if he is?
- I'm finished. Washed up.

Sanity and reason become
things of the past. Madness reigns.

- Just relax.
- Relax?

With Clouseau
loose in the world?

You go about offering irresponsible
suggestions like that, doctor,

and you better find yourself
a good analyst.

- Now, just lie down.
- Just lie down.

- And relax.
- Relax.

Don't you think I want to relax?

Don't you think I'd give my
right arm for a good night's sleep?

I haven't closed my eyes in three days.

I've only eaten a chicken leg
and some clear broth since Wednesday.

I'm cracking up.
I'm coming apart at the seams.

Look at my eye. I used to have
a perfectly good eye. Two eyes, I mean.

No, Doctor, there is no hope. There is
no hope unless I can get rid of Clouseau.

I must get rid of Clouseau.

Ese gitano de Cordoba,
o sea que eres unico, arsa, mira.

Pei do dna! Pei do dna!

Pei do dna! Pei do dna!

What's wrong?

I'm not gonna let you look at me
going up the stairs, you naughty thing.

Come on, then.

No, I'm just unlocking the door. No.

You just split up your pants so you could
lure me into this apartment of yours.

Well, this is my apartment.

I know this is your apartment.

- How about a little lure?
- Nothing lure. You lure, you.

Oh, lu-lu-lu-lu-lure.

- Do you know?
- What?

I know this is your apartment.
But that won't help you in the least bit.

Why won't that help me
in the least bit?

- Because...
- Question...

- Question, answer, Mr. Police Inspector.
- Jacques Clouseau is the name.

I've given up sex.

Oh.

Quel brutto momento.

I've given up sex.

- Promise me.
- What, darling?

Afterwards,
you will not smoke, hm?

I give you my word
as an officer and a gentleman.

Also, a policeman.

Policeman.

- Jacques?
- Yes, darling.

Carry me.

All right, my darling.

Jacques?

- Yes, my darling?
- I swore I'd never...

- Ooh!
- Oh.

Sorry, my darling.

Jacques, I swore I'd never,
never do it again, you know.

- Yes, darling.
- And I resolve to be so strong.

- Yes, darling.
- You know, we all pay for our sins, don't we?

Could you open the door, my darling?
Anything... worth waiting for is worth...

Oh.

Oh, darling.

My darling.
My dear, sweet darling.

My sweet darling,
let's have the...

- Jacques?
- What, darling?

It may be somebody
important, Jacques.

Oh, darling, listen. What could
be more important than this?

Jacques, look what you are doing.
Look at my sleeve.

- It's all right, darling. It looks better that way.
- Jacques, go to the door.

Darling, go to the door.

- Probably somebody important.
- Don't go away.

- Don't go away. What?
- Darling, hurry.

Hurry, yes.

- Darling!
- Coming, my lovely little darling.

That's very strange.

Darling.

- Oh, my darling.
- Come here.

Oh! Oh, this is too much
for a simple policeman.

Oh, my darling.

Wait, I... Wait, wait, wait.

Wait, my darling. Wait.

You beautiful, wonderful...

- You're like a... Like a little pin.
- Like a pin?

- Argh!
- No!

- No!
- Kato! Kato, you fool!

Kato!

Kato!

Jacques!

Don't worry, my darling.
It's only Kato. It's only Kato.

This poor fool.

Jacques! Oh, Jacques!

- I killed him.
- Don't worry, you didn't.

He's all right, my darling. It's nothing to worry.
Nothing can happen to us now.

"Trail of death
follows Inspector Clouseau."

Four people - a doorman,
two customers, and a Cossack.

Most regrettable.

Regrettable? Including the Ballon murders
this brings the grand total to eight!

Well, that just goes to prove
what I have said all along.

What you've said all along, Clouseau,
qualifies you as the greatest prophet

since General Custer said he was
going to surround all those Indians!

Maria Gambrelli did not kill
those four people.

- Which four people?
- The last four people.

Someone else killed those four people.
I was with her all the time.

And whoever he is, he's the same man
who killed the first four people.

- A doorman? A Cossack?
- Innocent bystanders.

The murderer was after me.
Fortunately he missed.

"Fortunately" is not the word.

Nevertheless, it proves
that my theory is correct.

You see, because of
some misguided loyalty,

Maria Gambrelli will not divulge
the name of her former love

and that man is so jealous
he will kill rather than lose her.

Are you saying that this man,
the man Maria Gambrelli is protecting,

her former lover, killed eight people
because he was jealous?

Insanely jealous.

So jealous he made it look like
Maria Gambrelli was the murderer?

He's a madman, a psychotic.

- What about the maid?
- The maid?

Was he jealous of her, too?
He strangled her.

It's possible that his intended victim
was a man and he made a mistake.

- A mistake? In a nudist camp?
- Nobody's perfect.

- Idiot! Nincompoop!
- Sir. Commissioner.

Lunatic!

I will have your murderer
for you by tonight.

What?

- I have a plan.
- What sort of plan?

A plan that
cannot possibly fail.

Right. Now, remember,
at eight o'clock sharp,

you pull the master switch
just as I am about to name the murderer.

- Leave the lights off for five seconds.
- Yes. Not a second longer.

Just long enough for the murderer
to leave the room. Understand? You quite clear?

Right, now we synchronize watches.

In seven seconds it will be precisely...

2:43.

- 2:43?
- Your watch must have stopped. I've 7:46.

Yes. 7:46, yes.

- No, no, no. Now it's nearly 7:47.
- Yes, all right. 7:47.

- Are we synchronizing on 7:47?
- That is what you said.

No, I said it was nearly.
I've now, ooh... ten seconds to 7:47.

- I've got ten seconds after 7:47.
- You'll have to put your watch back.

- Yes, all right, all right.
- Five seconds.

- Yes. Four.
- Four.

Three.

Two. One.

Now.

That's strange.
The second hand is not moving.

- It's ticking.
- It's moving now.

What? Yes. Yes, it is. Yes.
I know that. I can see that is moving now.

- And now I've 7:47 and 23 seconds.
- All right.

- Let's synchronize on 7:47 and a half.
- Very good.

Five. Four.

Three.

Two. One.

- Now.
- My watch has stopped.

Your watch has stopped?

A remarkable coincidence.
It's stopped completely.

Hmm.

- Look here. Take my watch.
- But, what about you?

- Don't worry. I'll keep talking till the lights go out.
- But we still won't be synchronized.

Yes, it'll be all right. Don't worry.
I'll find a way out of it.

Very kind of you. There's no need
for you to stand. Please sit down.

Now then. I expect you're wondering
why I've asked you all here.

Well, whatever the reason,
it's a damn nuisance.

We usually have dinner at nine o'clock and
you've brought everything to a standstill.

You will not be inconvenienced
for long, Monsieur Ballon.

Your clock has stopped,
Monsieur Ballon.

Yes, but if you want to know
the time, it's exactly 7:50.

You are slow, darling.
It's 7:52.

No, my love. This watch has not lost
a second since the day you gave it to me.

I didn't give it to you.

I have 7:55, monsieur.

- That is what I have.
- You are both fast.

No, my watch is right.
I'll prove it to you.

Would you tell me
the right time, please?

7:54. Thank you.

Yes? It's for you, Inspector.

Ah, it's for me.

- Yes?
- What time is it?

What?

- Your watch has stopped.
- Where are you?

In the basement. I had the
operator call this number.

What do I do? I can't
pull the switch at eight o'clock

if I don't know what time it is.

- It's, uh, 7:54.
- 55 now.

55 now, yes.

I just realized something.
I still won't know when it's eight o'clock.

- Count.
- What?

Count.

Oh, count. You mean seconds?

Yes, that is exactly what I mean,
and don't dare call me here again.

Now then.

Now then. I will tell you...
why I have called you all here tonight.

One of you... is a murderer.

36... 37...

38... 39.

Before I name the killer...

I will explain to you the facts
that led me to discover his...

or her... identity.

Now then.
The night the chauffeur was...

The night the chauffeur was killed.
What was the chauffeur's name?

- Migwell, yes.
- No, Miguel.

- Migwell.
- Miguel.

- Well, this Italian...
- Well, he was a Spaniard.

Well, this Spaniard, um, Mingwell,
he was furious with Maria Gambrelli.

He tore her dress off.
He protested violently.

Argh! Ooh, my foot!

I'm terribly sorry. I beg your pardon.
I did not notice her. Excuse me.

He tore her dress off, and at that
precise moment, the door opened...

and somebody...
somebody shot him.

Now Maria could not see who the killer was
because she was unconscious.

And the reason she was unconscious because
she had received a beump upon the head.

A what?

A beump.

Now, there is only one way she could
have received a beump like that.

She was hit upon the head
by an object,

and the object was the knob
on the closet door.

Somebody was hiding
in that closet,

and when they opened the door
she received a beump upon the head.

- Oh, for heaven's sake, Inspector, come to the point.
- Don't tangle words with...

- Ow! You clumsy idiot!
- Sorry. I'm terribly sorry.

Ow!

Oh!

Oh, those feathers.

Oh, I am coming, Maria, my darling.
My darling, I...

Ooh.

Careful, monsieur, with me.
Do not tangle with me.

I'm a trained expert in karate.
My hands are lethal weapons.

Hmm.

Now then.

There is something that I am very
interested to know. These rumours...

- What happened? What?
- You fell off the sofa, you stupid...

I know I fell off the sofa, madame.
There is no need to tell me.

Everything I do
is carefully planned, madame.

I know that.

Now, then.

uh...

What was I saying? uh...

Listen, you, you daydreaming fool.
What are you doing there? I mean...

Can't you pay attention when I'm talking?
Don't you know what I was saying?

You're not listening to me.

With the greatest respect, monsieur,
I heard every word that you said.

Would you be kind enough
to tell me what it was that I said?

- You were talking about the closet, monsieur.
- Well, yes?

You were saying that when
the closet door was opened

Maria received a
bump on the head

and from that that you inferred
that someone had been hiding...

She received a beump on...
And listen, monsieur.

Next time I may test you without warning,
so pay attention at all times.

- Yes, monsieur.
- Now then.

Whoever was in that closet opened
the door and knocked Maria unconscious.

And whoever the man was that was in that
closet had a reason to be in that closet.

- How do you know it was a man?
- Because we found his fingerprints, Monsieur Ballon.

And... they were your fingerprints.

Well, why not? It's my house.
I've often been in that closet.

- For what reason?
- Last time it was moths.

Meuths?

- Moths.
- Yes, meuths.

Maria was complaining of meuths.

Meuths?

Is that right, Maria, that you were
complaining about these meuths?

Yes, I did complain about moths.

Oh, you mean meuths. Yes, the
flying meuths, you mean.

Yes, of course,
of course, of course.

No, but what I do not understand is
that in a household of this size,

the question of meuths should be brought
to the attention of Monsieur Ballon,

not one of the servants
or the local meuth exterminator.

However, for the moment,
we will pass over that,

and we will continue to concentrate
on another type of local exterminator.

212, 213, 214...

Maria Gambrelli, even though
she now realizes it was a mistake,

is not a sort of a woman to have an affair
with a man and then expose him.

And we cannot condemn her, because
she does not believe this man was a killer.

But this man was not only a killer.

He was an unprincipled villain

who would rather see Maria Gambrelli go to the
guillotine than lose her to another man.

He was hiding in the closet when she
came into the room with the Spaniard.

He opened the door, shot the Spaniard,
and put the gun in Maria's hand.

You don't know what
you're talking about.

- Benjamin. Shut up.
- I think that--

- You have something to say, Monsieur Ballon?
- He has nothing to say.

No, but she has. Why don't you ask her?

How dare you.

- She was having an affair with my husband.
- Liar!

You are a fine one to talk. Your husband
was having an affair with my wife.

- Liar!
- Thank you, Pierre.

- And what about you? What about you and Simone?
- Oh, no!

- And what about you and Georges?
- Liar!

- You killed him!
- What?

- I saw you go to the greenhouse just before Maria.
- He's crazy. Why should I kill Georges?

- Because you were having an affair with him.
- I should kill him for that?

You killed him because you knew
he was carrying on with Madame.

- I saw you kill Dudu.
- Liar!

- I saw you.
- It's insane. Why should I kill Dudu?

Because you discovered... you discovered
that she was having an affair with Pierre.

- That's not true.
- She told me.

Ah, yes, yes, yes,
of course she told you,

because you and Dudu
were blackmailing the Madame.

- You liar!
- She told me! She saw Madame kill Miguel.

- Shut up!
- That's not possible.

- What was that?
- What?

Georges told me he saw Monsieur Ballon climbing out
of Maria's window right after the shooting.

Well, I didn't kill him.

- I was the one in the closet.
- Oh ho!

My wife expected to find me with Maria
and shot Miguel by accident.

- I put the gun in Maria's hand to protect my wife.
- I arrest you for putting the gun in Maria's hand.

- Oh, you keep out of this.
- You self-righteous hypocrite. You...

- What about Henri?
- Well, what about Henri?

- You killed him.
- Why should I kill him?

- I arrest you.
- I saw you put the... shut up!

I saw you put the gun,
drag his body into Maria's room.

- It was you.
- Yes, it was.

- Why should I kill Henri?
- It's alright, darling.

298, 299.

Hercule,
turn on the lights.

Let me in, Benjamin. Ow!

No!

No! Stop! Come back, you fools!

Come back!

Clouseau!

- Stop them. Stop them!
- What?

- The bomb!
- The what?

The bomb?

It was meant for you.

What do you mean it was
meant for me, Commissioner?

The doorman, the two customers
and the Cossack,

and now, six more
innocent people.

They were all murderers, except Maurice
who was a blackmailer, Commissioner.

- Compared with you they were all saints.
- Commissioner, what are you doing?

- I hate you, Clouseau.
- Commissioner, please.

I hate you.

Commissioner, what are you
doing to me? Let go of me.

Let... Commissioner, let go of my leg.

Hercule! Get him off me.

- Commissioner. Commissioner.
- Commissioner. Commissioner.

Argh, Commissioner!

Jacques.

Jacques? Are you all right?

It's all over now, darling.

You're free.

Argh!

Whoa!