All language subtitles for intrigo

I wonder if everything
will go well this time.

Each year I worry.

Each year everything
has gone well.

When will I stop worrying?

Soon enough, I suppose.

The only advantage of being 79.

Once again, the Swedish
academy of science has voted.

The royal Caroline
institute has voted.

The Swedish academy
of letters has voted.

Once again, man bestows
immortality on his fellow man.

Ladies and gentlemen,

this year's winners
of the Nobel Prize.

The prize for literature went to
the American novelist Andrew Craig,

the youngest man
to be thus honored

since Rudyard Kipling
won the prize

at the age of 42.

Mr. Craig is best known
in Europe

for his anti-fascist
novel

"the imperfect state."

Dr. Max Stratman...

In chemistry, the prize went to
the French husband-and-wife team

Dr. Claude Marceau
and Dr. Denise Marceau.

They achieved the prize for their
researches into sperm structure

and the vitrification
of human reproductive cells.

In physics, the German-born
physicist Dr. Max Stratman,

now living in Atlanta,
Georgia.

Dr. Stratman was
awarded his prize

for his research
in the field of solar energy

and the development
of new rocket propellants.

In traditional ceremonies
at concert hall,

the king will present them
with a gold medallion,

a Nobel diploma,
and a check for $50,000.

Dr. Claude et
Denise Marceau

de Paris...

Dr. Max Stratman...

For their work
in overcoming

the immunological
barrier

to organ transplantation
in the human body,

Dr. John Garrett
of the United States

and Dr. Carlo Farelli
of Italy

were jointly awarded

the Nobel Prize
in medicine.

Dr. Garrett's award
is one of 3 Nobel prizes

given this year to citizens
of the United States.

The others are physicist
Dr. Max Stratman

and novelist
Andrew Craig.

The winners will arrive in Stockholm
shortly before the ceremonies

and stay
at the Grand Hotel,

which is the custom.

Oscar, Hilding,
stop it at once!

Must I remind you
again?

During Nobel week,
nothing but English

is to be spoken
here.

But--

Even when
you quarrel.

But it is my turn to deliver the
trays, Mrs. Ahlquist.

Last year, it was his.

Gentlemen, please.
You will both deliver the trays.

- Both?
- Both?

One to carry,
the other to assist.

I will carry.

No, I will.

You will
alternate on each delivery.

Now don't let me hear
another word about this,

especially in Swedish.

Now which is first?
Medicine, literature, chemistry, physics?

The way I feel,
I am in the mood for medicine.

The way you sound,
you should be in the mood for physics.

"The Nobel Prize
for medicine

is equally divided between Dr. John
Garrett of the United States

and Dr. Carlo Farelli
of Italy."

Ja. So...Ja. Dr. and Mrs.
John Garrett and children,

suite 447.

Let's go, assistant.

Mrs. Garrett?

Yes?

With the best wishes
of the management.

Oh, isn't that nice?

Well, can't you ask
someone at the hospital

for Dr. Oman's
private number?

Right over there.

It's not in the book.
He must live in the suburb.

Ooh, can I
have some?

Me, too!
I want this banana.

- I want this.
- I want it.

Be quiet. Be quiet.

Shh. Your father.
Now get your hands off. Amy, David.

Please. Please.
Here.

No, thank you.
Good night.

Good night.
Thank you.

No, I am not ill,
but it's important

that I speak
to Dr. Oman.

Why not? Because you had dinner.

Come to think of it,
I am getting ill.

You know what, madam?
I've just had an idea.

I'm going to hang up.
That's right. Good-bye.

Oh, we should never
have left California.

Won't tomorrow be time enough?
You're exhausted.

I wanted to have the evidence on
Farelli before the press conference.

Are you so sure
there is evidence?

What's a Farelli,
mommy?

Stupid, he's the man that stole
half of daddy's Nobel Prize.

Aren't they
supposed to be in bed?

Yes, yes. Come on.

Come on, now.
Move. Bed.

♪ Farelli
is a-smelly ♪

♪ Farelli
is a-smelly ♪

No, no, no, mama.

Who is there,
man or woman?

The waiter
here, sir.

Dr. Farelli?

Uh-huh.
In the flesh, as you can see.

Compliments
of the Grand Hotel.

Oh. Magnifico.
Come in. Come in.

Over there next to
my mother, please,

so she can stuff herself
without moving.

Madame Farelli.

Madame Farelli.

Good night.
Good night.

I thank you a thousand times.
Good-bye.

Just what I needed.

Ahh.

Ooh.

I suggest that you watch
my performance

with our Nobel Prize
winners in chemistry--

Dr. Claude Marceau
and Dr. Denise Marceau.

There is much to be
learned by observing me.

I agree. You should be
placed under observation.

Good evening, doctor.

I did not order
anything.

A gift of the management for
you and your esteemed wife.

Ah.

Good evening,
madame doctor.

Thank you,
and the same to you.

Ahem. Do you have
one of those

for the young lady
in the next room,

my, uh--ahem--
my secretary?

Miss Souvir?
Oh, yes, doctor.

Not only the laureates
but their guests as well

receive every hospitality
of the management.

Perhaps you would like
to enclose a card,

suitably inscribed.

Thank you. Thank you.
Good night.

Denise. Denise, must you
in front of them?

If we're going to go
through with this charade,

let's at least have a
few laughs along the way.

Did I know we are going
to win the Nobel Prize?

The least we can
offer in return

is a few days
of dignity.

Dignity?
It's disgraceful.

It's positively
immoral,

you and I living together
in the same room this way.

We are husband
and wife, aren't we?

Yes, but what will
she think, hmm?

Come in, cheri.

The door is open.

Oh. Bonsoir.

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

Oh, is that for me?

Who likes me so much?

The Grand Hotel,
Miss Souvir.

Oh, not you?

To the Grand Hotel.
Put it right there.

Is the champagne
cold?

Perfect.
Shall I open?

No, no.
Too soon, too soon.

Merci beaucoup,
gentlemen.

And you will leave
the door open

Un tout petit peu?
Like so, yes?

Good night.

Good night.

He did say secretary,
didn't he?

Something must have been
lost in the translation.

Oh?

Good evening.
Miss Stratman?

Yes.

For Dr. Stratman and you from the
management of the Grand Hotel.

Well,
how kind of you.

I'll take it.
My uncle is resting.

Oh, are you sure
you can handle it?

If I drop it,
I'll call you,

and we'll pick up
the pieces together.

Very well.
Good night, Miss Stratman.

Good night,
and thank you.

Oh, I thought it was
those people

to take you out
to the nightclubs.

Mr. and Mrs. Bergh
aren't due for an hour.

And what are you doing
out of bed?

Can you imagine putting my old
body in this beautiful thing?

It's an insult
to the tailor.

Emily, when the king
shakes my hand,

couldn't I just be wearing
a sweater or something?

No. And if you don't
lie down, uncle Max,

I'm not going to let
you go out tonight

on that secret
rendezvous of yours.

Oh, secret nothing.

Just ashamed
of old friends.

Oh, if only you
weren't going out.

Well, what have we
got here, liebchen?

Schnapps? Ha ha!

You'll crush it.

Oh, on purpose.
I choose to keep myself from admitting

I just can't wait to wear
it to the concert hall.

Well, good stuff.

Worthy of the double
occasion--

seeing you for the first
time as a grown-up woman,

and then this-- this wonderful
foolishness of your old uncle

being called to Stockholm
for the Nobel prize,

like he was
somebody important.

You're supposed to be
resting.

Enough rest. If I don't
take some schnapps quick,

I might wake up and the whole
thing will turn out to be a dream.

It's no dream,
uncle Max.

This is the suite of the Nobel
prize winner for literature

Mr. Andrew Craig,
is it not?

Yes, it is.
Set it down over there, please.

Don't go yet.

You will have to
remove the bottles.

Remove them?

Champagne, beer,
aquavit? Out.

But then Mr. Craig will
have nothing to drink.

Exactly. Now please
do as I say.

Begging your pardon,
but who says?

Miss Andersen of the
foreign office says.

In 30 minutes, Mr. Craig will
be landing at the airport.

And here we are,
playing games. Catch.

Ugh.

There he is.

You fly a very nice
glider, Miss Munsen.

Thank you,
Mr. Craig.

You also mix a very
civilized Martini.

Perhaps one too many
for such a short flight?

Never deny a man his
right to be unconscious.

I'm afraid
they're waiting for you.

Yes, I'm
afraid so, too.

Good-bye,
Miss Munsen.

Good-bye, Mr. Craig.

You know, watching you walk up
and down that aisle tonight,

I feel as though I've known
your legs all my life.

Ha ha ha! Now,
you behave yourself in Stockholm.

Silly girl.

Can you smile,
Mr. Craig?

Yes, if you say
something funny.

Mr. Craig, I am
Count Bertil Jacobsson.

On behalf of the city
of Stockholm,

I welcome you
to Sweden.

Thank you
very much, sir.

I'm very happy
to be here,

I think.

This is Mr. Clark Wilson
of your splendid embassy.

Ah, yes. Mr. Wilson.

Congratulations,
Mr. Craig.

You've done us proud,
Americans everywhere.

Just one
of those things.

Another picture,
please, Mr. Craig.

I want to ask you a few
questions, Mr. Craig, please.

Wait a minute. Where were you
fellows when I needed you,

when my books
were being published?

Mr. Steen Blickman
of the Swedish academy.

Oh.

Honored, Mr. Craig,
greatly honored.

Thank you very much.

Radio Sweden.
A few words, Mr. Craig, please.

Oh, yes. Well,
I'm, uh--

I've always wanted
to see Sweden.

I never thought
I'd be able to do so

under such rewarding
circumstances.

$50,000 reward, huh?

We were rather worried
when you failed to arrive

on the morning plane
from Copenhagen.

Oh, yes. Well,
I met this Danish girl in Tivoli.

An old friend?

She is now.

Excuse me,
Count Jacobsson.

Why, certainly.

Mr. Craig, allow me
to introduce myself.

I'm Miss Inga Lisa Andersen of
the Swedish foreign ministry,

assigned to you for your
stay here in Stockholm.

Hello.

Hello. I have a car
waiting outside.

Will you follow me,
please? Excuse me.

Things
are looking up.

Mr. Craig, a few
more words, please.

"And immediately afterwards,
there will be a tour of the city.

On Friday afternoon, the board of
directors of the Nobel foundation--"

am I keeping you awake?

Just barely. That's all right.
Go ahead. Keep going.

This can wait.

Don't go away mad,
Miss Andersen.

I'm rude
to everyone.

I know that,
Mr. Craig.

Before taking
this assignment,

I tried to make myself
an authority on my subject.

Well, just how much
do you know?

Your lack of regard
for the Nobel prize,

your threat
to turn it down,

your decision to come
to Stockholm

only because $50,000-- how did
you put it in "time" magazine?

"Ain't hay"?

That's right.
"Ain't hay."

Yes, I think you have caught the outer
man, Miss Andersen,

but bear in mind
that 9/10 of the iceberg

is generally hidden
from view.

And in your case,
it happens to be ice cubes.

Well, we have been
doing our homework.

Thank you.

What do you plan to do
about these ice cubes?

Nothing.
Just hope and pray.

We'll do our best.

We certainly will.

How come you instead of
some aging male diplomat?

You're unattached
and alone,

and there are social
functions to attend,

and we felt it would be
happier for you this way.

That's thoughtful of
the Swedish government,

but aren't they a little
concerned about you?

Oh, you mean
your reputation with women?

Something like that.

Mr. Craig, I hope
you'll forgive me,

but in matters of sex,
compared to the average Scandinavian,

you would be considered
a mere amateur.

Miss Andersen,
will you marry me?

We have a saying
in Sweden.

Why settle for one dish
when there's smorgasbord?

Ahem.

Nice little place
you have here.

Your suite faces the royal
palace across the water.

I hope you find
everything satisfactory.

If the king promises
not to watch.

What's on the agenda
for you and me tonight?

You have a formal
press conference

at 11:00 tomorrow
morning,

and I suggest you get
a good night's sleep.

Mm-hmm.

Oh, this is Mr. Andrew Craig
from the United States.

Mr. Lindquist will
anticipate your every need.

Welcome to Grand
Hotel, Mr. Craig.

Thank you very much.

Would you excuse me
for a moment, please?

Oh, yes.

Professor Stratman.

You will mail this
for me, please.

Certainly.

Shouldn't one Nobel prize
winner know another?

Mr. Andrew Craig
of literature,

Dr. Max Stratman
of physics.

- Oh.
- Ah.

Doctor.

So this is
the young man

who has done so many
fine things with words.

If you please.

Oh. Just a minute.

Thank you.

I have been looking forward to meeting
you, Mr. Andrew Craig.

And I, too, doctor.
Congratulations, of course.

Yes, but do you
really mean of course?

You and I will have to
have a little talk.

We will?

While I admire the words
that you've written,

I cannot say the same
for what you've spoken

to the newspapers back
home about the Nobel prize,

how it means nothing
to you but money.

Now, is that enough
respect for Mr. Nobel

and the wonderful united
states of America?

Tomorrow, perhaps some
schnapps and conversation, ja?

If you promise
not to spank me.

I make no promises.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.
Thank you.

Tell me, what do, uh,
people around here do at night?

Well, we have
the royal opera,

the royal dramatic
theater--

no, no, no. Something a tiny
bit more vulgar than that--

you know, dancing, music,
beverages with a slight alcoholic content.

I see.

A little, uh,
local color floating about.

Local color.

Always adds interest
to a place.

Let's see. We have the...

The golden crown
in the old town.

No, the golden crown
would not do.

Ahem. Why not?

Too many young girls
with the wrong ideas.

- Awful.
- Yes.

Glad you warned me.

I'd better write it
down for you

so you'll remember
to forget it.

Very kind of you.

Always glad
to be of service.

Everything seems
to be in order.

Now, you will be ready to meet
the press tomorrow morning?

Oh, absolutely.
I'm going straight to sleep.

You wouldn't care to help me turn
down my bed covers, would you?

I'm afraid I have
no skill as a chambermaid.

Nobody's perfect.

Except during
Nobel week.

Yes, Mr. Craig?

Yes, Miss Andersen.

- Good night.
- Good night.

I'll have the hall
Porter make the reservations.

Wasn't that
Andrew Craig,

the Nobel laureate
in literature?

Unfortunately.

Oh, now, Rolf.

Stockholm during Nobel
week is a China shop

with no place
for bulls.

Have you read
any of his books?

We work for the foreign
office, Miss Stratman,

not the Swedish
academy of letters.

Well, I think
he's marvelous.

Uncle Max.

I thought that you were
off to your meeting.

Oh, well, some people it gives
me a pleasure to keep waiting.

I'm glad. Now I can
kiss you good-bye again.

What is this
good-bye business?

Aren't you planning
to come back tonight?

Not if Mr. and Mrs. Bergh
keep their promise

and take me to every nightclub
I should see in Stockholm.

And some she shouldn't see, too.

Ja.

I've given
Mr. Bergh a list.

Everything from the ambassador
to the golden crown.

What can he do?
He promised.

Well, enjoy, enjoy.
Good night.

Good night.

Max.

Max.

My old friend Max.

So we meet again,
Eckhart.

I flew in this morning
just to see you.

I should be honored.

Instead,
my stomach hurts.

We'll fix that.

I know a place where the food
is warm and the beer is cold.

No. We will walk.
I have no wish to be seen with you.

Well, walking is good
for the soul, I admit.

You read my note.

And threw it away.

Were my congratulations
not welcome?

I told myself,
"I will not answer him.

I will not
meet him."

But you came.

An old man's pride
which says,

"can a man be worthy
of the Nobel prize

"and not be able to handle
two minutes of conversation

with a former
colleague?"

Two minutes only?

So commence.

Your country
needs you, Max.

My country is the United
States of America.

I have it
in writing.

We'll say
my country, then.

Which belongs
to others.

We want you
with us.

Now, please--

I am authorized to offer
you the highest position,

complete autonomy,
3 times the money you earn in America.

Now, I've
heard enough.

To work for us
is to give strength

- to the cause of peace
throughout the world.
- Peace?

Peace, you say?

Is there no love for the
fatherland left in you?

Strangely enough,
more than is left in you and your kind.

Now, listen to me.

I am ordered
to say this.

Starting tomorrow when
you talk to the press,

you will begin
to prepare the world

for your voluntary
defection to your homeland.

You will indicate
there are warmongering uses

to which America puts
its men of science.

And then at concert hall,
you will make the gesture

that dramatizes
your disapproval

of the work you have done
for the imperialists.

This gesture,
Eckhart--

draw me a diagram.

It will be necessary for you
to renounce the Nobel prize.

For this they've sent
you to Stockholm.

For this nonsense you've
brought me out here

in the middle
of the night.

In a matter
as important as this,

I couldn't sleep well unless I
made at least one serious attempt

to persuade you before
severer measures are taken.

So now you can
sleep well.

What is this?
What are you doing?

What are you doing?

Skol.

Ja. Skol.

I've been wearing you out
tonight, haven't I, Mr. Bergh?

Not at all,
Miss Stratman.

I always yawn
deliberately

after the third
smoke-filled cabaret.

It helps the
breathing, you know.

Oh, Rolf.

I'm sorry.
I don't speak Swedish.

He doesn't speak
English.

He's inviting you
to dance with him.

I'd be delighted.
Is it all right?

- Ja.
- No.

Ivar Cramer.

Emily.

I told him
he gets one dance.

Bye.

Uh!

Put it
on my check.

- Good night.
- Good night.

- Good night.
- Good night.

I think we
should go now.

But--
guess what.

I've just met some dear
friends from London

on the other side
of the room,

and they've asked me to join them.
Do you mind?

Not at all.
Good night, Miss Stratman.

Come along,
Sylvia.

Thank you so much
for everything.

I really enjoyed
being here.

Good night,
dear.

- Good night.
- Good night.

I was only looking.

If you don't want
people to look,

you should cover her with
a burlap bag or something.

Hello.

Stay out of this.

On second thought,
she'd look great in a burlap bag.

There's only one way
to settle this.

Let's step outside.

Me and the girl.

Hey!

Go away.
Shoo. Shoo.

What is this?

Red cross rescue
service or something?

Would you care
to dance?

Ugh. Are you kidding?
I don't think I could crawl.

Well, I'll
sit down, then.

My name is Smith.

I'm an American tourist,
and I am slightly tiddly.

I never
would have guessed.

Hey, shall I give you
my money now,

or would you rather
roll me later?

You have just
given me an idea.

Oh. Drink?

No, thanks.

You speak very good English
for a nondrinker, miss...

Greta Garbo.

Mind if I call you
Ingrid?

Not at all.

Yeah.

Why don't we get out
of this crowded place?

What's the matter?
Don't you like crowds?

There are some things that
should only be done in private,

Mr., uh, Smith.

Yeah.

And we wouldn't want to
do anything conspicuous,

would we, Mr. Smith?

How old are you?

Why?

I don't know.

I mean, most of the girls
in this place are--

you look as though
you ought to be in bed.

I accept.

Who's your sick friend?

Say, are we
really going

where I think
we're going?

To your hotel,
of course.

Oh, incredible
country, Sweden.

What's so incredible
about it?

Well, I don't know.
It's just so chock-full of surprises.

You think this
is something?

Wait till we get
to the hotel.

Shouldn't we, um,
go up separately?

Oh, it's all right.
They know me here.

Have you got
your key?

I never make
a move without it.

You Americans
are so clever.

The only trouble is,
I haven't done anything to deserve this.

Oh, yes, you have.

Mmm.

Funny thing. Everybody tells
me that I look like, uh,

Andrew Craig,
the fam--

Is not that door,
and is not that door.

It is...

This door.

Wrong door.

Uh-uh. Right door.

Uh-uh.

Wrong door.

Uh-uh.

Right door.

Sleep tight,
Mr. Andrew Craig.

Andrew Craig.

I'm Dr. Stratman's
niece Emily.

You can thank me
in the morning.

Oy, oy, oy.

Who was that?

Andrew Craig,
my good deed for tonight.

Success.

Success.

We will have it.

Ivar said everything
went all right.

Perfectly.

Now, you must stop
worrying, Emily.

I know.

I command it.

What time is it?

10 minutes past 12:00.

Wrong. You can't read the
dial without your glasses.

Smart girl.

Sorry.

Nothing closer
than 6 feet.

Fine.

Madame Marceau,
may I raise a point

that might seem
a trifle irreverent?

If the point
is not too sharp.

Considering that you and your
husband achieved the Nobel prize

through your work in the preservation
of human reproductive cells,

isn't it a bit ironic that you and
Dr. Marceau have never had any children?

Ironic, no.
Explainable, yes.

I fail to see
what this has to do--

my husband and I have
worked so long together

as a scientific team

that perhaps we may have
come to see each other

only as gray matter,

one brain complementing
the other.

I myself have not yet learned
to cope with the situation,

but I think
my husband has made

a rather successful
adjustment.

Would you care to read that back to
me, Miss Souvir?

I'm sorry.
I did not get it.

Oh. I was so sure
you would.

Perhaps you'd like to say
something, Claude.

No. I think you've said
enough already.

And now please
forgive us.

Thank you very much,
ladies and gentlemen.

Where's your
sleeping beauty?

I'm trying, but--

why don't you go up
and get him?

...Together at any time

or correspond
with each other?

I'll answer that.
We did not work together at all.

I knew nothing whatever
of Dr. Farelli's research,

and I must assume that he
knew nothing of mine.

Only one other man
knew of my techniques--

there were long nights
of lonely battle,

I in the Instituto
Superiore di Sanita in Rome

while unknown to me,
my admirable colleague Dr. Garrett

was pursuing his victory in
far-off Pasadena, California,

each of us using
the same methods

of trial and error.

Dr. Farelli
is too kind

when he gives me credit
for using his methods.

I crawled from "A"
to "B" to "C"

while he was leapfrogging
from "A" to "Z"

without making a single
experiment in between.

Well, in Rome
one does as the Romans do--

improvise.

Dr. Garrett,
a moment ago,

you said that another
man knew of your work.

Yes. Dr. Eric Oman,
a prominent surgeon

right here
in Stockholm.

3 years ago, when I learned
that he was doing work

in the field of heart
transplants,

I corresponded with him,

and I offered him
all of my findings,

in the strictest
of confidence, of course.

One of the reasons that I am
happy to be in Stockholm now

is that I will have the pleasure
of meeting Dr. Oman face to face,

a pleasure which I believe you
had last year, Dr. Farelli.

Mm-hmm. In Geneva, yes.

Regrettably,
there was not time

for more than a brief
meeting between us.

I'm sure.

Come in.

Set it down.
I'll have it in a moment.

Suppose it doesn't
want to be had.

Can I interest you
in leaving immediately?

You wouldn't have some ham and
eggs in that handbag, would you?

There's coffee at
the press conference.

Mmm. The condemned man
ate a hearty nothing.

Tell me, why all this
fear of the press?

Because it is time,
methinks,

to let them in
on a few secrets

that I've been living
with for much too long.

What sort of secrets?

I'm a slow writer.

Well,
judging by last night's performance,

I'd say you work
rather fast.

Miss Stratman did all the work.
I just supervised.

Interbreeding of Nobel prize
winners or their families

while guests
of the Swedish government

is not something
we encourage, Mr. Craig.

To tell the truth,
she didn't lay a glove on me.

I'd like to be able
to believe that.

Why?

I find honesty
irresistible in a man.

Stick around.

What are you
planning to do?

Be irresistible.

Except for reading
everywhere

that you have found a way to
harness the rays of the sun,

I have been unable to learn
precisely what you have done.

I have asked the royal
Swedish academy of science,

and they cannot
or will not tell me.

Well, they cannot
tell you

because they have
been so instructed

by the united
states government

in the name of so-called
national security.

I seem to get
the impression

that you're not
completely in accord

with the Washington
authorities.

Well, secrecy is becoming a
way of life in this world,

an attitude which is excused
by using the word "survival."

It is an unhappy condition
for the scientist.

But secrecy was not the
invention of the United States.

If it weren't for the
policy of the iron curtain--

excuse me, please.

I will answer questions about
science or myself, and that is all.

And again I must
remind the photographers

there are to be no pictures
without permission.

Dr. Stratman,
it is a matter of curiosity to many of us

why you remained in Germany and continued
your work there during the second world war

when so many others
left the country or escaped.

I do not know of the
circumstances of the others.

I can only answer
for my own.

Those dearest to me were
in concentration camps--

my poor wife, my brother
Walter, his family--

and so long
as I cooperated,

they were kept alive,
but unfortunately,

despite my efforts,

only my niece Emily
survived.

I trust this satisfies
your curiosity.

Is it not a fact that you were
kidnapped by American army in Berlin

at the end of the war

and taken to the United
States at gunpoint

and forced to work for
the American imperialists?

No comment.

All it takes is a simple "no"
for an answer, professor.

Let me end this
interview by saying

that a scientist always
prefers to carry on his work

where he can feel that
his accomplishments

will not be perverted to
the exploitation of mankind.

This has been weighing
heavily on my mind of late.

Exactly what
do you mean?

Now I must thank you all
for your attention.

Good day.

I hope it was not too much of a
strain, professor.

Perhaps the strain
was on the other foot.

Allow me to introduce our Nobel
prize winner for literature--

Mr. Andrew Craig.

This is Dr. Stratman.

It's all right.
We've al--

I am pleased
to meet you, Mr. Craig.

I had believed you to
be a much older man

to have
such knowledge.

Apparently you don't recall
our meeting last night, doctor.

How are you feeling
today, Mr. Craig?

Fine. Oh, I mean fine,
fine, yes, thanks to you.

You and my uncle Max
have met before?

Yes, although
it seems that--

Mr. Craig, they're
waiting for you.

Oh, excuse me.

I hope you'll
bear in mind

this is
the world press.

Courage.

Come, liebchen.

I would like to stay and
listen to Mr. Craig a while.

Wouldn't you?

All right.

Please.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Mr. Andrew Craig
of the United States.

Mr. Craig.

Ladies,
gentlemen, fire away.

Yes. Mr. Craig, please,
what was your first reaction

when you received the
news of your Nobel prize?

Uh, no reaction
at all.

I was dead drunk
at the time.

Well, you seem
perfectly sober right now,

so may I ask you,
how does it feel to be in the company

of William Faulkner, Albert
Camus, and Ernest Hemingway?

I'll answer that with
a question: Why me?

I haven't had
a book out in 5 years.

But that has little
bearing on your body of work--

6 superlative
novels.

Not one of which
sold enough copies

to stick
in your left eye.

Do you find
that alcohol stimulates

your creative
imagination?

Not at all.
It just happens to be necessary.

Why necessary?

Oh, I don't know.
I suppose it's because I'm a sorehead.

I'm sore at myself for
not being able to interest

the reading public,

and I'm sore
at your Swedish academy

for forcing me to
stand up before the world

and die in public
when I was doing

such a damn good job
of it in private.

But, Mr. Craig,

what about "Return
to Carthage,"

the book that you've been
writing for the past 6 years?

There is no
"Return to Carthage."

It's all a fiction
designed by me

to conceal the fact that I
just ain't got it anymore.

Fritz.

Well, if your books
haven't sold

and you haven't written
anything for several years,

how have you been
earning a living?

Are you sure
you'd like to know?

Ja, please.

Detective stories.

Detective stories?

Yes. I've been keeping
myself well-dressed,

well-fed,
and well-oiled

by grinding out
detective stories--

mystery novels,
private eyewash,

all under a pseudonym.

Ah. Don't ask me what the other name is.
I won't tell you.

Somebody from the Swedish academy
might read one of those books,

and they would
take back the $50,000.

You'll forgive
my saying so, sir,

but I feel it
hard to believe

that the Andrew Craig who
wrote "The Walls of Croyden"

and "the imperfect
state"

is even capable of doing what you
have just described to us here.

Well, let's just say
that I have a nose

for sniffing out
the mysterioso in life,

for finding devious plots
in everything that I observe.

I don't suppose you'd care
to give us a demonstration

of this, uh, nose?

Well, it is rather
short-order cooking.

How about this one?

Nobody steal it.
I may want to use it sometime.

Nobel prize winner
comes to Stockholm.

He's wined, dined,
interviewed, and awarded,

and all the time, what nobody
knows is that he's an impostor.

An impostor?

Yes. Sent here
by the real prize winner

so that he can slip off to a
secret weekend of joy in Acapulco.

Preposterous.

Why?

How do you know that
I'm really Andrew Craig

and not some
gate-crasher?

What? Because I look
like his photographs?

Have any of you
ever seen me

before I arrived
in Stockholm last night?

Maybe Dr. Stratman over there is
really Dr. Marceau with a beard

and, uh, Dr. Marceau is
really his wife's hairdresser.

Thank you very much for the
demonstration, Mr. Craig.

Not at all.

I think we've taken enough
of Mr. Craig's time for now,

ladies and gentlemen.

This press conference
is adjourned.

Angry?

I could be discharged
for saying it.

Impressed.

Then there's more
where that came from.

I suggest you save
it for a rainy day.

Night.

Oh, Mr. Craig.

Could I talk
to you for a moment?

There, you see?
Not all is lost.

Someone still wants
to talk to me.

Miss Stratman, this is Miss
Andersen of the foreign ministry.

How do you do,
Miss Andersen?

Miss Stratman.

Miss Andersen is
officially in charge of me

during my stay
in Stockholm.

What a delightful
assignment.

And thank you for handling
it for me last night.

Anytime,
Miss Andersen.

Why don't we all
have lunch or something?

I must go now,

and please
don't forget

the reception at Count
Jacobsson's villa

starts at 7:00.

Don't run.

I'll pick you up
at 6:30.

Here's my card.

Office number and home
number, in case you need me.

Good day.

I don't think
she likes me.

Well, I don't think
I like you either.

Hmm. This just
isn't my day.

Where can we talk?

There must be a bar
somewhere in the hotel.

Well, if there isn't,
you'll invent it.

Thank you.

You can start working
on another one of these.

So.

So.

You were sort of
sneaky last night.

Wasn't I, though?

You never could have done
it if I'd been sober.

I never would have wanted
to if you'd been sober.

Why did you want to?

A fool and his Nobel
reputation are soon parted.

I think I took care of that
at the press conference.

No. You were wonderful.

Thank you.

What sort of trickery do you
have in store for me today?

Trickery?

Yes. You said you wanted to
talk to me about something.

Yes. I heard you tell
my uncle Max

that you met him
last night.

Yes, when I checked into
the hotel in the lobby.

The desk Porter
introduced us.

Oh, I see.

Tell me,
does your uncle

have lapses
of memory?

I wouldn't know.

I really don't know
uncle Max all that well.

I was just
a tiny little thing

when he went off to
America after the war.

How could anyone
leave

a tiny little thing
like you behind?

I was already
in Montreal,

living with
a family there

after my mother
and father died.

Uncle Max and I
corresponded,

but somehow we just never
managed to get together.

Then I went to college
in London and stayed on.

It wasn't until
he won the Nobel prize

and I cabled him a hint that
he invite me to join him here

that I really got
to see him.

That was yesterday
morning.

We're practically
strangers.

Did you notice anything
different about him today?

I mean, as compared
with yesterday?

Different?

You'll laugh.

Tell me the joke.

Well, when I met
your uncle last night,

he, uh, seemed
quite friendly.

He was familiar
with my work and me,

and, uh--thank you.

And he enjoyed having
his picture taken,

and he was noticeably
pro-American.

Then today,

he acted as though
he'd never met me,

his voice sounded
slightly different,

he looked slightly
different,

and he objected to
having his picture taken,

and he, uh,
was noticeably anti-American

to the press.

Uncle Max?

And last night when I
shook hands with him,

I had the feeling that I
was much taller than he,

and today
he seems to--

Ha ha ha!

Yes, he seems to
have grown a little.

Mr. Craig, you must
do yourself a favor.

Don't say a word
about this to anyone,

and in the interest of preserving
your precarious reputation,

I won't either.

I shall take it
under advisement.

Oh, now I've
got to run.

There's uncle Max.

I promised
I'd meet him for lunch.

See you tonight
if not sooner.

Put this
on my check, please.

Oh, Mr. Craig.

Yes?

I'm Denise Marceau.

Oh, Dr. Marceau,
of course.

I should have
recognized you.

Well, how could you
recognize me

when you still
have in your eyes

that beautiful
Stratman girl?

May I say that my
eyes are large enough

to hold two
beautiful women?

So I've heard.

Please sit down.

Science needs the
advice of literature.

But I was just
going to have lunch.

Splendid idea.
Please.

Oh, Martini
very dry.

Make that two.

Oh, I believe I see Miss
Stratman in your left eye.

Oh, forgive me,
doctor.

Oh, no.
Not doctor, please.

Denise.

Ah, rhymes
with chemise?

Oh, I knew you were the
right man to advise me.

What kind of advice
was this again?

Purely literary,
I assure you.

Given the following
situation:

A husband
loves his wife

but has forgotten
he loves her

because of
his infatuation

with another
woman's body.

Problem:
How should the story

proceed to a happy
ending for the wife?

May I call you
Andrew?

Oh, please do.

Now, does she win back
her husband with threats?

Never works.

Then does she try
to open his eyes

to the truth about
the other woman?

What is the truth?

Ravishing, damn her.

Ooh, that's bad.

Well, then I see
no other way

but for the wife to find
an equally attractive male

to remind
her husband

that she, too,
is desirable.

Does that sound
workable, Andrew?

What would she have
in mind for this male?

Once having
found him,

she could pretend
to a relationship--

you know, create
the illusion,

not the fact.

Not the fact.

Thank you.

Cheers.

To illusions.

Oh, this is
my third Martini,

and I haven't even had
any breakfast yet.

I'm with the hotel.
Thank you, Dr. Marceau, Mr. Craig.

We must make sure that
my husband gets a copy.

There's a telephone call for you,
Mr. Craig. Follow me, please.

Don't go away.

Thank you.

Hello. Mr. Craig here.

I can't.

Did you say Stratman?
Well, what about Stratman?

Can you speak English?

Uh, wait a minute.
Wait a minute. Ne quittez pas.

Excuse me. My name is Craig.
Do you speak Swedish?

I was born in Stockholm.
I hope so.

Could you tell me what the
gentleman on the other end

is trying to say?

Marten Trotzig Lane,
number 40.

He says come
right away.

Lindbloom
is his name.

It is something about
you and a Mr...Strutman?

Very serious and urgent
matter, he says.

Then he hangs up.

Hmm. What was
that address again?

Wait. I'll write it
for you.

Marten Trotzig
Lane, number 40.

That is in
the old town,

just across
the canal.

Lindbloom. And hurry.
Right away, he says.

Thank you very much.

Good day.

Let me guess.

They have called
to tell you

your Nobel prize
was a clerical error.

Don't want you to think
that I am terribly rude,

but something urgent
has come up,

and I'm going to have to
leave right away.

Oh, what's her name?

Probably miss
wild goose chase.

Will you forgive me?

Never, and I'm going to
make you pay for it tonight.

Marten Trotzig Lane.

Ja. Ja.

Hello?

Mr. Lindbloom?

Hello.

Mas. Mas.

What?

M-m--

Excuse me. Excuse me.
Where can I find an officer?

No, thanks.
An officer.

Where can I
find an officer?

A constable?

No! No! Back!

Back! No! Stop!

No! Back! Back! Back!

No. I am sorry.
I can't help it,

but the whole story
is so amusing,

especially the part about
the new Dr. Stratman.

Well, I'm doing
my best to amuse you.

Now, I hope you
don't mind my asking,

but had you
been drinking?

I told you.
I only said that

to the crew
that fished me out

so they'd believe
I fell in.

And I'm very glad you didn't
tell them who you were.

I was afraid they'd
throw me back in.

But no drinking,
yes?

No drinking. No.
I had one Martini with Emily Stratman.

Ohh!

Oh. Make that two.

Oh-ho.

And one little Martini
with Denise Marceau.

With Denise Marceau.

But that's all.

What happened?

No time to get around to
the mother of Dr. Farelli?

Gesundheit.

Ohh!

They should have
left me in those clothes

when they dried them
in the boiler room.

We really should go to the
hotel and let you change.

No, no. We're going to number
40 marten Trotzig Lane,

and then maybe you and your
friend Constable Strohm

will find things
a little less amusing.

I hope you won't
do anything

to antagonize
the police.

We must keep it out of the
papers, you know?

Just keep me out
of the canal.

This city doesn't
need police.

They need lifeguards.

Goddag.

Goddag.

Uh, Mrs. Lindbloom?

Ja.

I'm v-very sorry
to bother you, uh--

She does not
speak English.

- Goddag.
- Goddag.

Goddag.

Something's wrong.
She's too cheerful.

Ask her what happened
to her husband.

Uh, may I carry on,
Constable Strohm?

Please do,
Miss Andersen.

Her husband is on a
holiday in Switzerland

and has been gone
for almost a week.

Is that Oscar?

Ah, ja. Ja.
Oscar.

His body was lying
right there in this room.

I saw it this afternoon.

She has been home
all day,

and she says you are
making a joke.

If she thinks
that's funny,

wait till she gets
to the funeral.

Ask her, uh, what
he does for a living.

Did for a living.

Theatrical makeup
and wigs

for Swedish films.

I see.

Did he know a man
by the name of Stratman?

Stratman? Nej.

Perhaps we should leave,
Miss Andersen.

Yes.

Wait a minute.
I'm telling you.

I saw him sitting there
right in front of the te--

the television set.

Ask her where
the TV set is.

They have no
television set.

She's lying.
It was right there.

He was probably watching
the press conference.

Something he saw,
something I said.

That's why he called me
at the hotel.

Shall we go,
Mr. Craig?

No.

What about,
uh, mas, mas?

Mas?

I already told you.
Mas means seagull,

and Stockholm is full
of seagulls. Please.

What's happening?

We are leaving.

You mean, this is it?

Yes.

Well, I certainly
enjoyed your performance

as the merry widow.

Ja. Ha ha! Ja.

I know what
you're thinking.

You do?

Yes. Why don't you just
come right out and say it?

All right.
I was wondering what to wear

to the reception
tonight.

Yes. You're right.
I made the whole thing up.

I had nothing better to do with
myself today, so I invented the murder

and then decided to try a
half gainer into the canal.

- Constable Strohm?
- Yes?

What are you planning
to do about all this?

As a favor
to the foreign ministry,

the police will forget
the entire incident.

You mean, including the
character with the sunglasses

who tried to kill me?

The feeling seems
to be that he, too,

is on his holiday
in Switzerland.

I'm surprised you don't
arrest me for drunk diving.

- Mr. Craig?
- Hmm.

Now, can I trust you
alone until 6:30?

Yeah. I'm just going to
be soaking in a hot tub,

trying to defrost.
What can happen to me?

You could always
go down the drain.

Miss Andersen,
will you do me a favor?

Why, certainly.

Before you pick
me up tonight,

would you
mind soaking

in a hot tub
yourself?

I think you could stand
a little defrosting, too.

Good evening.

Good evening.

Who is it?

Somebody dangerous.

Hello.

Hello.

Still alive?

Temporarily.

Your press conference
in the evening papers.

How did I make out?

I suggest you don't
learn to read Swedish.

Ooh. I don't suppose
there was anything

in the newspapers about a
dead man named Lindbloom?

Nothing. May I?

Hmm.

Nice.

Bath oil.

What's the Swedish word
for, um, enchanting?

Foert jusande.

And for female?

Kvinna.

Who are you planning to
use Swedish with tonight?

Who are you planning
to enchant tonight?

There.

Why don't we have
a little--

Drink before we go?

We are late.

It's--it's out
of the question.

You're absolutely
right.

What are you doing?

Inspecting the foreign ministry.

And I didn't want to
come to Stockholm.

This is not on the Nobel
schedule, Mr. Craig.

I think you
should be prepared

to make unscheduled
flights, Miss Andersen.

I never should have
listened to you.

What did I say?

About defrosting
in the bathtub.

Did you?

Much too long.

Well, I've been getting
into hot water all my life.

I thought an iceberg
never melts.

I thought Sweden
was neutral.

You shouldn't have
done that.

I don't want
the king to see.

He'd understand that I'm
merely doing my duty.

Mmm. Don't stop.

Keeping you out of
one kind of trouble...

Mm-hmm.

By getting you
into another.

This calls for
more than a drink.

Yes?

This calls for...

All sorts of things.

Yes.

We may even have to...

Yes?

Yes.

No.

We can't be late
for the reception.

Oh. There are
the Stratmans.

And here are we,
and let's keep it that way.

No. I think we ought
to mosey over

and see what
we can see.

I think not.

You just don't want
me to be near Emily.

I just don't want you
near her uncle.

If it is her uncle.

See what I mean?

Oh, boy.

What is it?

That waiter
over there.

Oh. What about him?

He looks like
the guy--

Hello. Waiter, waiter.

Excuse me.

Uh, ha ha!
Haven't we met somewhere before?

Sir?

Oh, now, surely
you remember me.

Andrew Craig. Hmm?
Nobel laureate in drowning.

Uh, how about this?
Lindbloom. Chop, chop.

Nothing, huh?

Uh, what's your name?

Daranyi, sir.

Daranyi, huh?

Would you like
a canapé?

Which one has
the body in it?

Now, don't look
at me that way.

Where's
Count Jacobsson?

No, please.
Why not?

I don't want to see you
make a fool of yourself.

Then you'd better
stay here.

Ah, Count Jacobsson.

Ah, there you are,
Mr. Craig.

May I see you
for just one second?

Carlo Farelli,
Mr. Andrew Craig.

How do you do?
I'm delighted.

Signora Farelli,
Mr. Andrew Craig.

How do you do?
How do you do?

Mr. John Garrett
and Mrs. Garrett.

Congratulations,
Craig.

Yeah, well, we're a long way from
home, aren't we?

You can say that
again.

I want to see you.

John, not now.

There's something very
strange happening here.

Yes, of course.
This is Dr. Denise Marceau

and
Dr. Claude Marceau.

Mr. Andrew Craig.

Andrew.

I never should have
left you today.

Your wife and I almost
had lunch together.

I have already seen
the photograph

of your tête-à-tête,
Mr. Craig.

I hope we were
in focus.

Thank you for
the flowers you sent me.

3 dozen of the most
beautiful roses.

Well, I'm extravagant,
aren't you?

Oh. This is mademoiselle Souvir,

the secretary of
Dr. Claude Marceau.

Hello.

Congratulations,
doctor.

Ah. Finally. You, see.
There's this--

Oh. You know Mr. Wilson
of your embassy here.

Yes, yes,
of course.

Well, Mr. Craig,
that was quite a splash you made

in your newspaper
interviews today.

Well, if you think
that was a splash.

Uh, now,
you see that waiter over there?

Yes.

Well, do you know who he is?

Uh, obviously
an employee

of the firm catering
this occasion.

His name is Daranyi.

I see.

Please.

Gentlemen,
please don't laugh,

but he tried
to kill me today.

Ahem. My dear count,
what would your guests say

if they knew you employed
such inferior servants?

Mr. Craig, please,
I beg of you.

Now, wait a minute.
He murdered a man

by the name
of Lindbloom,

who was going to
tell me something

about Dr. Stratman.

He knows
that I know,

so he pushed me
into the canal.

And you drowned,
no doubt.

I think we should
call the police

and question
the fellow

and, while
we're at it,

see if we can't find
Lindbloom's body.

Oh. Oh, it's missing.

Yes.

How awkward.

Mr. Craig, don't you think
you have gone far enough?

I did my best to save you
from yourself today

by cutting your
press conference short.

I tried to save you
further embarrassment

by not telling
Mr. Wilson

Miss Andersen's
report to me.

What report?

She has given me
full details

of your highly
imaginative afternoon.

Oh, she has, eh?

I found it necessary
to reprimand her

for not tending
to you properly.

Oh, you shouldn't
have done that.

I hope I won't
have to do it again.

Gentlemen.

Well?

Nothing.

So you, uh,
reported

to Count Jacobsson
today, eh?

I had to.
Please forgive me.

Did he tell you what
kind of bath oil to use?

You don't think
that, do you?

I don't know
what to think.

This, foolish man.

Hmm.

You know,
whatever is going on around here,

I'm going to get
to the bottom of it,

if only to prove
to you

that I am not as big a
nut as you think I am.

What are you
going to do?

Even if I knew,
do you think I'd tell you?

You'd blab
everything to teacher.

So, uh, what
would you like, dear?

Well,
I can't quite make up my mind.

Hello there.

Hello.

Who are you tonight-- how
are you tonight, doctor?

Too many, uh,
bubbles in the mouth,

eh, Mr. Craig?

You should have
seen the bubbles

in my mouth
this afternoon.

I'm afraid you're
a little too quick for us.

Only two kinds,
they say,

the quick
and the dead.

Eh, professor?

Mmm. I'm sorry.
Do you know

Miss Andersen
of the foreign ministry?

Oh. Good evening,
Miss Andersen.

Good evening.

Dr. Stratman!

Oh. I'm so relieved to
see you here this evening.

Well, I hope
you didn't think

I was too feeble for such
festivities, Mrs. Garrett.

Oh, no. You see,
this evening

when my husband
returned to the hotel,

he said to me, "Saralee,
I know it couldn't be,

"but I could have sworn
I saw Dr. Max Stratman

"in a hospital corridor
this afternoon

"being wheeled to an
operating room or someplace,

and he looked
sort of unconscious."

? And I said, why,
you must have been seeing things."

Well, I was right,
wasn't I, Dr. Stratman?

Hold the fort.

John!
Where is that man now?

My drinking has
nothing to do with it.

Now, please,
Dr. Garrett.

You're gonna hear
what I have to say.

You can fool the Nobel
committee and the press,

but you can't fool me.

You are joking with
me, Dr. Garrett.

And don't give me that
innocent Italian charm.

Sure, Eric Oman had
nothing to tell me

at the hospital
this afternoon.

How could he after
you got to him first?

I give you my word.
I never--

you used
my findings,

my years of work!

No.

And covered
the thievery

with one rotten,
lying word-- improvise.

Make yourself sober,

and maybe someday,
I will let you apologize.

No, wait. No, wait.

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

Stay out of this!

I am--I am most
embarrassed, Mr. Craig.

Go to hell!

I'm very sorry,
but there's something

I have to ask you.

I don't want
to talk about it.

Which hospital
did you visit today?

Leave me alone.

No, Dr. Garrett,
this is important.

Your wife said
that you saw a man

that looked like
Max Stratman

being wheeled down a
hospital corridor today.

Amazing likeness.

Which hospital?

Ohh. I think I'm
gonna be sick.

But which hospital?

Flora sanitarium,
fourth floor.

Ohh.

Thanks.

I have just done
a wicked thing.

I changed the place cards
at the dinner table

to put us
side by side.

Oh. Well,
you better switch them back again,

or you'll be talking
to an empty chair.

Oh. We've just had
a lovers' quarrel?

What do you know about
the flora sanitarium?

It's a private
institution

for rich
nervous breakdowns.

Where is it?

On Paulsolmen.

How far away?

A few minutes
driving time.

Paulsolmen, hmm?

You're not thinking
of leaving?

I'll be right back.

But dinner.
Make excuses for me.

I'll go with you.

Oh, no, you won't.

What took you
so long?

I didn't know
I was expected.

Mr. Craig's coat, please.

Shall we use
your car or mine?

Are we going
someplace together?

That hospital,
of course.

Of course.

Sorry.

Meanwhile back
at the ranch,

they discover
we're both missing.

Wonder what
they'll think.

People will say
we're in love.

- Tell me something.
- Anything.

Earlier today,
you implied

that I was, um,
imagining things,

and pretty ridiculous
things at that.

Here you are on your way
to double-check them.

When did you
change your mind?

Oh. I haven't
changed my mind.

I just want to be there
when you change yours.

I see.

You don't sound
very convinced.

But I'm beginning to be
convinced about you all right.

Wait here.

Yes. If I'm not out in two
days, come in and get me.

Uh, good evening.

We're--do you
speak English?

Somewhat.

Uh, do you have a patient
here by the name of Stratman?

Wait here, please.

Mind if I do
the talking?

I'm not even here.

I'm Dr. Eckhart.

May I be of assistance?

Yes. My name is Craig,
and this is Miss Stratman.

We're trying to find out
if you have a patient here,

uh, Miss Stratman's uncle,
Dr. Max Stratman,

or else someone
who looks like him,

possibly
on the fourth floor?

There's no
Stratman here.

Well, here's
a picture of him.

Does that face
look familiar?

Oh. Nobel prize
winner.

And that's you--
Mr. Andrew Craig.

I am honored.

- Yes or no, doctor?
- No.

It's a matter
of some urgency.

Would you object if we looked
around the fourth floor?

Is this your request,
Miss Stratman?

Yes.

Come with me.

Sorry.

What about that one?

Unoccupied.

For how long?

A week or so.

- May I?
- Yes.

Coming,
Mr. Craig?

I suppose you must
think that I'm--

where's
Miss Stratman?

I believe she's
waiting downstairs.

I'm terribly sorry to
have bothered you, doctor.

No bother. It gave me the
pleasure of meeting you.

All right.

- Good night.
- Good night.

Hey! Hey!

Hey!

Why, you--

Oh, not again.

Oh. Come on,
Daranyi.

Just because
I didn't eat

one of your
damn canapés.

Excuse me. I need help.
Could you tell me--

What? No, I can't.

No, I can't.

Herrar. Herrar.

Yes. Herrar. Herrar.
Of course.

Someone's following me.

Clothes off,
or no in here.

I need the police.

Nothing on.
Nothing on.

Nothing on?

Ahh! Stop it.
I'm ticklish.

Please.

Hold it. No, no. Just a minute, please.
Do you speak English?

Why, yes.
Most of us here do, I'm sure.

Well, I need help.

Then as a courtesy to our
visitor from another land,

I will continue
in English, all right?

No, no, no, no, no.

You don't understand.
I'm in trouble!

Clothing does more than
keep out the sun and air.

It makes the human anatomy
excessively mysterious,

giving rise
to improper thoughts.

Just--just--
just a minute.

I'm being followed
by two men

who are trying
to kill me.

No. They're
right back--

I, uh, I want you to
send for the police.

No. I'm serious.

Now, I can't explain
everything to you--

Americans are rarely
serious about nudism,

but kindly remember
that you are in Sweden.

Yes. And about to get a
knife in my naked back.

Now, please, do not
disrupt this meeting again!

Because if you persist,
I will summon the police.

Can I borrow
your towel?

I should say not.

One has only
to observe...

Police?

Which modesty takes in
different parts of the world,

to recognize
the essential falsity.

If a man came upon
a naked Swedish girl

or a naked French woman
by accident--

you can be sure
it was no accident.

She would quickly cover a
certain area of her lower body

with her hands,

but if she were
a naked Arab woman,

she would cover her face
before all else.

Oh, yes. I've got a couple
of tomatoes back home

that I wish would do
the same thing.

I have asked you
to stop!

What? And leave
that poor Arab woman

with her bare face
hanging out?

If a man were
to surprise...

Psst. Mr. Norberg.

A naked
Chinese woman--

she would try
to hide her feet.

A celebes woman
would cover her knees,

a Samoan girl her navel.

Listen. I once
surprised a girl

who was part
Chinese, part Samoan,

and part celebes,
and when I--

she had
a terrible time.

Under international nudism--
under international nudism,

every part of the body
would be revealed.

What about elbows?

A person would have
to cover nothing,

for there would be
nothing to fear.

Question! Question!

And the consequence
would be

a generally higher standard
of morality all around.

Mr. Speaker,
I demand to know your position

on the question
of naked elbows.

Why don't we
throw him out?

Let's all throw him out,
Mr. Norberg!

Be patient!

Be patient!

He will not be
with us for long.

Permit me to continue.

Stop peeking at me!

What kind of nasty minds
do you have anyway?

If anybody touches me,
I'll scream.

Uh, my friends,
what is our goal then?

It is to promote
the physical well-being

in a more
relaxed atmosphere.

Hypocrisy! Hypocrisy!
Lies, lies, lies.

I wish to be heard.
Now, listen to me, all of you.

I'm speaking as an American
citizen and as a non-nudist...

Throw him out,
Mr. Norberg!

Temporarily caught
with his pants down,

but don't listen
to Mr. Norberg there

because he's playing
the skin game.

While you're sitting
here in the altogether,

your clothing lies back
there in the locker rooms

at the mercy of
professional thieves!

Mr. Norberg is stealing
the shirts off your back,

and that's
the naked truth!

Easy does it, boys.

You will put your
clothing on, please.

Well, if you want me
to go in there,

you're gonna have to
come in there with me.

Can't you
dress yourself?

There are two men in there
waiting to kill me.

Why do you think
I sent for you?

Oh. Come along.

All right.

Hmm. So they
got away.

Yes, sir.
Just get dressed.

How do you like that?
They stole my clothes!

Hold on to your
towel, please.

Come along.

Yes, I, um--we ought to go
straight to headquarters.

I've got a rather
involved story to tell,

and it may take some time,
but it's rather urgent.

Ja, sure.

There won't be any need to
tell us anything, Mr. Craig.

We know all about you and your
stories from Constable Strohm.

Oh, yes, well,
I can explain all that,

but couldn't we--

please get
in the car.

Get some sleep,
Mr. Craig.

Thanks a lot.

I'm going to 4. You?

6.

Yes, I always take a
brisk walk before bedtime.

It helps me
to fall asleep.

It's a bit chilly
out tonight.

That's why I wore
the towel.

No key.

Aah!

Oh, ma'am. Shh!
Ma'am. Ma'am.

Denise!

Oh. Andrew.

May I, uh, come in?

Such a question.

Mmm.

At last, you are living
up to your reputation.

Well, I'll explain about
all this some other time.

But I understand
everything.

Well, but right now,
could you do me a favor?

Call the desk and have them
send me up my key, room 443.

Immediately.

Uh, meanwhile,
why don't you put on

something
more comfortable?

To a beautiful evening.

To the woman who has
made it beautiful.

Dr. Marceau,
telephone.

Follow me,
please.

Hello.

Allo, Claude.
C'est Denise.

Mon cheri,
je voulais te dire

j'ai un homme nu
dans ma chambre.

Non.

Non, ce n'est pas
possible.

Hello. This is
Dr. Marceau.

Would you kindly send
to my room the key

to Mr. Andrew Craig's suite,
number 443?

Well, of course
it is for him.

Ships!

Your key's on the way.

Hmm.

Put this on and give me
that ridiculous towel.

Oh, thanks.

Hello? Could you hold on
for just one moment, please?

Hello? Andrew Craig
speaking.

Do you have a bureau of
shipping here in the city?

One hook in the back would
you, please, Andrew?

Yeah. That's right.

Arrivals
and departures.

Now, let me tell you
what you missed

at the reception
tonight.

No, no, no. Some other time.
What was that?

And the zipper.

Well, could you find out what
time they open in the morning?

Merci.

Yes, I'll wait.

A marvelous reaction

took place between
my husband's secretary

and that charming Italian
Dr. Farelli.

Oh, wonderful.

Thanks to my
scientific manipulation

of the place cards
at the dinner table.

Yes?

What are you doing?

Oh. I'm so happy,
I want to share it with you.

Well, uh, yes. Never mind.
Some other time.

Oh, hello, Claude.

You know
Andrew Craig.

More so every moment.

My dressing gown looks

almost as well on you
as it does on me.

And so, I might add,
does my wife.

Very ingenious woman,
your wife.

Excuse me. The key of Mr. Craig.

Yes.
I have to run.

Good night, doctor.
I shall return this in the morning.

Denise.

Thank you, Andrew.

Oh, Andrew.
You forgot your towel.

Denise...

I think you need to be
watched more closely.

I think so, too.

Hello.

How could you
do this to me?

You deserve it.

I've been beside
myself all night.

I wish I could be beside
yourself all night.

Tell me what happened.

You'd never
believe it.

Pretty.

It's not mine.
It's Claude Marceau's.

His wife gave it
to me.

Well, I was naked.
What else could she do?

And what was
she wearing?

Oh. Sort of an
off-the-shoulder smile.

I want to know
everything.

First things first.

Now, where would you
like to start,

with Denise Marceau
and you naked

or Emily Stratman and you
cleverly slipping away

from the party?

Ah. The foreign
ministry is jealous.

And waiting
for an answer.

In due time.
In due time,

but first,
I have to scout around

and get some
shipping information,

and the bureau of
shipping is closed.

What sort of shipping?

Cargo ships, freighters,
everything in port,

what's arriving,
what's sailing.

I hope not sailed.

That should be
in the evening papers.

Oh, of course.

You translate.
I've got to get dressed.

Am I permitted
to ask

the importance
of these ships?

Yes. I'm playing
a hunch.

Dear old
Max Stratman

has been hustled
aboard one of them

from that sanitarium
tonight.

Please.

Well, everything today
sailed this afternoon.

What about tomorrow?

Tomorrow.
White explorer,

destination
San Francisco.

No.

The George P. Wilson
bound for Marseille.

No.

The Boulanger
for Antwerp.

No.

Dampfschiff Moewe
for Leningrad.

Leningrad? Hmm.

Well, go on.

Nothing. Probably
just a coincidence,

but Dampfschiff
Moewe is German.

It means
steamship seagull.

Lindbloom's seagull.

That's what he was
trying to tell me.

That's it.
That's got to be it.

Arrives pier 18 tomorrow
morning from Tallinn.

But not in yet?

And, um, sails
tomorrow night

to Leningrad.

Tomorrow night?

Oh, of course.

Right after
the Nobel ceremonies

with the real Stratman on board
smuggled behind the iron curtain

while who knows what that phony
Stratman does at the ceremonies.

You're going
too fast for me.

No, no, no, no. It's perfect.
It all fits.

Now, then, if we
do anything tonight,

we might
tip them off,

force them to change
their plans.

They might even
kill Stratman,

but tomorrow,
they'll fall into their own trap.

They'll put Stratman
aboard the seagull,

and then we have the police
move in and search the ship.

On what evidence?

No evidence. A hunch,
and a damn good one.

Isn't that enough?

Enough for an international
incident, yes.

I love everything
about you

except your misguided
diplomatic caution.

Lindbloom had
something to tell me.

That word was seagull.
Daranyi tried to kill me again tonight.

So tomorrow,
we are going to go to Count Jacobsson

or someone who knows
how to listen

and get some action
before it's too late.

All right.
We'll talk to Count Jacobsson.

He'll be
at concert hall

at the rehearsal
tomorrow.

And you'll back me up?

- Yes.
- Promise?

Yes.

Who is it?

The bellboy, sir.

Mr. Craig, a gentleman
brought these to the hotel,

saying you forgot your
clothing at the gymnasium.

Oh. On the chair, please.

Was he a tall gentleman
with a thin face?

Yes, sir.

That was
no gentleman.

He instructed me
to say to you

he will be
seeing you again.

Oh. How comforting.

Will there be anything
else tonight, sir?

I hope so.

Ohh.

Uh-uh.

Uh-uh-uh.

Mmm.

I think I like you
a little bit.

I think I like you
a little bit, too.

And I approve
of gymnasiums.

You must be in excellent
physical condition.

You must be in excellent
physical condition, too.

Good night,
dear assignment.

Good night now.

Good night.

Concert hall, please.

Konserthus.

Remember me,
Mr. Craig?

Dr. Eckhart.

Never forget the face.

Please forgive me for
inviting myself into your car,

but I feared I might
not have an opportunity

to speak to you
in time.

In time?

About Miss
Inger Lisa Andersen.

What, uh, about
Miss Andersen?

I know how greatly
it would grieve you

if she were to be
found tomorrow

the victim of some
unfortunate accident.

Eckhart, I don't know
who you are,

and I don't know exactly what
all this dirty mess is about,

but how would you
like to wind up

in one of your own
hospital beds?

Tend strictly
to your own affairs,

and immediately after
the great Nobel event

comes to an end,
Miss Andersen will be released

as untouched and as
lovely as she was

when she left your
hotel suite last night.

What do you mean
released?

She's perfectly safe in our
hands, I assure you.

You're lying.
She's waiting for me

right now
at concert hall.

No, Mr. Craig.

Well, if she's
not there,

then I'll call the foreign
ministry, and they'll take--

and they will
tell you

that she was regrettably
summoned to the bedside

of an aging relative
in northern Sweden.

We have already sent
a message in her name.

You will do
nothing further,

say nothing further
to anyone,

particularly
the authorities.

Is that clear,
Mr. Craig?

Her life is
in your hands now.

Oh, here we are,
concert hall.

If you don't mind,
I'll continue in this car.

Now rise,
gentlemen,

and after a moment,

come down to me, the king,
to accept your award.

Perhaps you'd like to
accept both prizes.

If you mean
an additional prize

for tolerance
and restraint, yes.

His majesty will
then make the presentation.

Dr. Farelli,
I'll take your hand.

Dr. Garrett...

Excuse me.

Your hand.

Now, gentlemen,
if you'll step back,

bow, and return
to your seats.

Not so fast.

I, uh, just want
to thank you

for everything,
especially last night.

You've been such
a lovely little peach.

Do you mind, please?

I thought I didn't give a
damn about the Nobel prize,

but now, thanks to you and
your ugly little playmates,

I'd rather lose my neck than
see the wrong man get it.

I've had about enough
thanks for today.

You will have
a lot worse coming

if anything-- if anything
happens to Inger Lisa Andersen.

You remember that?

Oh, Mr. Craig,
you're just in time.

Where, uh, where is
Miss Andersen?

Oh. I'm sorry. Ja.
She had to journey to Oernskoeldsvik,

an illness
in the family,

but I can arrange
for someone else.

Oh, no, never mind.

Then if you'll take your
place on the stage, please.

Oh, I can't.

But the rehearsal.

There isn't time.

Why?

Is something wrong?

No, no, nothing.
Nothing at all.

Oh, then, please.

Excuse me.

Mr. Craig. Mr.--

Wer ist da?

Daranyi and Ivar.

Wer ist da?

Daranyi.

What's this?

What's this?

Well, help me.
I'm a writer, not a weightlifter.

Mr. Craig.

Are you all right,
professor?

I've never felt
better in all my life.

Ohh.

You know, it's
all your fault.

You should have stayed
with me last night.

All your fault.
You didn't insist.

Now, what's this
all about?

You tell him,
Miss Andersen.

Well, you see,
the other Stratman is his brother.

Emily's father?

Yes. Twin brother
Walter.

He's supposed to have died in
a prison camp during the war.

Get his belt.

Wound up
behind the iron curtain

and became one of them,
dedicated.

Tie his feet.

But it's him
they want,

his brain
working for them.

A man named, um,
Eckhart is running the show.

Ja, and boasting to me
in that hospital

about all his tricks,
the dirty swine.

What tricks?

Well, it would be bad for world
opinion if they kidnapped me,

so they have to make it seem like I
was leaving because I wished to leave.

My brother will step onto
the stage of concert hall,

posing as me,

and nobody will ever
know the truth.

Only he's not going
to get on that stage

because you're going
to get there first.

We'll never
make it in time.

What's Emily's part
in this?

Well, first,
they shocked her

with the news that her
father was still alive,

and then they forced
her into helping them

by saying his life would
be in danger if she didn't.

You--you--you mustn't
blame my Emily.

She really loves me.

Well, I am glad
to hear that.

All right. You're off
to the concert hall.

Oh, no, no.
I'm too weak.

Aren't we all?
Come on, come on, come on.

On your feet.

No.

Please, oh, please.

It will be
all right.

What now?

I haven't
the slightest idea.

Here. Stop.

I guess we're gonna
have to take a ride.

Must we?

It's the only way.
Come on.

Oh. And I was
so comfortable.

I'll be
in the next one.

Daranyi. Shh.

Do you know what
you're--unh--

what you're
doing to me?

I guess we'll
have to get married.

You haven't given
me an answer.

To what?

My proposal.

The answer is yes.

If you take your elbow
out of my--unh--ribs.

Let's go.

You all right,
professor?

Kaput bin ich.

What do you--
what do you--

pull this one.
The other one. Yes, yes.

Steady.

No, no, please.

Dr. Farelli?

Hello, Mr. Craig.

I hate to do this,
but I need you.

What is it?

Max Stratman--
he's collapsed.

Ay. Where is he?

Right here.
Follow me.

The house doctor's
out on an emergency.

They don't know
for how long.

Grave, molto grave.

Ah. Dr. Garrett,
come on in.

I don't think
you need me.

Oh, please,
Dr. Garrett, quickly.

I must have
your opinion.

He's had
a cardiac arrest.

Si. Ventricular
fibrillation, I think.

Or tachycardia.

Wh-What
does that mean?

His heart is fluttering.
There's no effective beat.

It's hopeless unless we
can get him to a hospital.

It's too late.
No time, no time.

I think
he's failing.

You can't let
that happen.

Improvvisare,
improvvisare, improvise!

What are you
gonna do?

He must live.

Open his shirt.

You'll kill him.

Get back.

Oh, uh, don't
touch him.

Stand back.

Where am I?
Heaven?

Stockholm.

Ah. Heaven.

We did it,
Dr. Garrett.

We did it!

You did it.

Ohh.

Wait a minute.
Wait a minute.

No, please.

Please. We're late
for concert hall.

Oh. Don't be foolish.

No. Getting out of bed
now would be a grave risk.

But now at the greatest
moment of my life.

Oh. My dear Stratman,
if I were you,

I would stay put, huh?

Yes, but you're
not me.

I'm going.
Nothing will stop me.

Nothing. Please.
I feel fine.

All right.
All right.

I feel
all right.

Just rest a moment.

Shall we tell them
that you're--

no, no, no.
Don't tell anybody about anything,

regardless of what happens
later, all right?

All right.

Everybody, hear me.

Get ready.
The king is entering.

Mr. Craig?

How do you feel?

I feel well,
Dr. Farelli.

How do you feel?

Mr. Craig?
Where is Mr. Craig?

He is not here.
What is going to happen?

Ohh. That I should
have to wear

a headwaiter's uniform

instead of my
beautiful dress suit.

Think of the poor
headwaiter,

sitting around
in his underwear.

Ja.

All my life
I'm an ox.

Tonight, I feel
like a dog.

You're doing fine.
Up there.

Up there?
Oh. I can't do it.

To Dr. John Garrett
of the United States

and Dr. Carlo Farelli
of Italy.

Bravo!

Oh, please.
Just for a minute.

Why don't you let me
carry you, doctor?

Because I'm
a stubborn old man

who wants to do this
on his own two feet.

The introduction
is brief.

They are coming to you,
Dr. Stratman.

Ach, der liebe.

For his
distinguished research

in the field of photochemical
solar energy conversion

and for his discovery of
hitherto undreamt of methods

of employing solar energy

to synthesize
new rocket propellants,

the Nobel prize in physics to Dr. Max
Stratman of the United States.

I want to talk
to you.

Let go of me!

It's about
your daughter Emily.

I have no daughter!

I know you're
Walter Stratman.

I know the whole story.

Stratman!

She did it for you.
Do something for her.

Free her. Tell her
she's got no obligation.

Look out!

Wait! Wait!
I'm not--

unh--Max Stratman.

Ach. You fool.

Take care of him.

A good performer knows...

When to leave the stage,
ja, liebchen?

And so farewell to Max

and farewell
to Walter Stratman

and good-bye
to the makeup magic

of Oscar Lindbloom,

who could not
hold his tongue.

But my father.

We had to deceive you
into believing he was alive

in order to get
your help.

Who are you?

I'm just an actor who
specializes in political roles.

Your friend Mr. Craig
has rewritten

my ending...Badly.

Aah!

For his writings in support
of humanitarian ideas,

for his restless curiosity,

his unending search
for the truth,

his unconquerable spirit,

and his
adventurous imagination

that seems to recognize
no boundaries,

the Nobel prize of literature

to Mr. Andrew Craig
of the United States.

I owe him
so many explanations

I won't know
where to begin.

From London by mail.

Why do I always
worry each year

that something
is going to go wrong?

It never does.