Original subtitles

-Open up.

Open up.

I know you're in there.

I'm staying right here, till you pay me.

Three months back rent! I know your sort.

If you don't open up right now,

I'm calling my son Angus.

You know how Angus feels about you.

Mm.

-Open this door.

Morning.

-I'm not a charity...

-Edelweiss! There you are. -Yeah, he just crawled

through my window.

Oh, I've been looking for you all week.

About the rent, Miss Collins,

I should be getting my trust fund check any day now.

Oh, pay me when you can.

You are a very naughty boy.

Yes, you are.

Just a matter of purely academic interest,

ever heard of the word integrity?

How's that?

When your fees for last term

failed to materialize, I took it on myself

as principal of this college to make some enquires.

-Allow me to summarize. -Uh-huh.

You did not attend Yale University,

nor the Actor's Studio

and as for that trust fund of yours

with the First National Bank of Toledo, Pennsylvania,

not only does the bank not exist,

nor does Toledo, Pennsylvania.

I'm intrigued to know how you thought

you could possibly get away with it?

I thought once you saw how good I was

you might just offer me a scholarship.

No, there will be no scholarship, Mr. Ripley.

Nor indeed will you be returning

for tomorrow night's performance.

Tomorrow night, when the talent agents come.

You've forfeited your right to be seen by them.

Conscience! But a word that cowards use,

devised at first to keep the strong in awe.

How strong arms...

Wonderful, Cynthia. Just wonderful.

I couldn't take my eyes off you.

I had to sneak back and tell you.

-Oh, you're so sweet, Bernard. -"And if not to heaven,

then hand in hand to hell."

He's such a pompous ass.

There you are.

-My love, you were exquisite. -Thank you.

Vulnerable and a little sluttish...

-...which I liked.

And you, you were, you were such a psychopath.

I've always had a soft spot for psychopaths.

-Oh, yeah? -Even wannabes like you.

Ah, stick it up your arse.

Um, shouldn't you be at the gallery?

Um, yeah. I'm a little bit late.

Oh, God. Jeffrey's gonna be losing his mind.

Do you have to drive so fast?

I'm not driving fast.

-We're gonna crash.

You know your problem, Bernard?

You're uptight.

You should see what happens when you just kind of let go.

-Derwatt! -Oh, no.

-No!

Do you have to drive so fast?

I'm not driving fast.

It's the Earth that's spinning out of control.

Get out of my way.

What?

-You want to shake my what? -You're a bloody lunatic.

No, I wouldn't let you anywhere near it.

-I'll catch up with you, guys.

-I've got to pick something up. -All right, love.

Darling, thank you very much. Coming in, coming in.

-Jeff. -Where the fuck have you been.

Why did you have to bring your family, Jeffrey?

All right, they have to grab you now

or they'll miss their deadlines. Please behave.

I have everything riding on this, my house, my car,

-my facelift when I'm 40. -Are you wearing mascara?

-You are. -Fuck off.

Excuse me.

-Miss, excuse me. -Qu'est-ce qu'il y a?

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you.

Get out. What, what are you doing in here?

Well, I was walking by. I saw you sleeping.

-I thought I should wake you. -Why?

Well, what if someone not so nice came along, right?

Okay, thank you.

Now-- now please, get-- get out of the car.

-Are you okay? -Yes. I'm fine.

This whole thing backfired on me.

I'm worried about your safety

and now you're worried some lunatic's in your car, right?

No, I just don't like

thieves breaking into my car, you know?

I was-- I was going to a gallery opening over here.

My friend's the artist. I didn't mean to scare you.

-Are you talking about Derwatt? -Yeah.

I'm actually here for the opening, too.

He's what-- he's like the new sensation, isn't he? Yeah?

Yeah, so they say.

He sure seems to keep you awake, huh?

No, I'm just exhausted.

I was up studying all night for my finals

-and I fell asleep--

-Nigel, stop! -Hey.

Leave him!

What the hell do you think you're doing?

Nigel! I fell asleep.

He was just seeing if I was all right.

You fell asleep in this neighborhood?

-Sorry. -That was smart.

Well, you took so long as always.

-What do you expect? -Who is this person anyway?

You should apologize to him first.

-Accidents happen. -Yeah. No problem.

We've spent 10 years now

tasting the equivalent of the Sahara Desert,

and then the Tate decides to buy two of my pictures,

and here you all are.

So what does that mean to you?

It means I can pay my rent.

It means I can feed my face.

It means I can buy good paints and canvasses.

And I'm here to tell you

that the price of a tube of Crimson Lake is shocking,

nowadays.

And I need to sell a lot of these pictures

to feed my habits.

That's what it means to me.

I've done my bit, now get me out of here.

See, now that was a hell of a performance.

I am so glad he's going to be famous.

He wants so badly to be a star.

Tom, honestly, who'd buy one of these?

I mean, how could you possibly live with it?

I don't know.

Thank God I'm over him at last.

What do you mean? He loves you.

He's devoted to you, you know.

He's not devoted, Tom. He's obsessed.

There's a difference.

Really, I can't breathe.

Once you get past the sex and the hero worship

all you're left with is one bloody scary individual.

Guess what he wanted me to do in bed last night?

He wanted me to choke him again.

This time, he wanted me to take him over the edge,

so that he passed out when he came.

I mean, is that sick or what?

Did you do it?

I'll try anything once.

...places, meeting these pretentious people...

50,000 quid, Jeff?

Do you know,

I can't decide which makes you the more jealous, Bern.

That Derwatt's artistic career has eclipsed yours,

or that he's screwing our slutty little Cynthia.

That's not a nice way to speak about an ex-girlfriend.

Give her up, Bernard.

Cynthia's life is just like one big safari.

She's always looking for the best game to bag.

Derwatt's just the prey du jour.

Yeah, well, why is she spending so much time with Tom then?

Do you know, I don't know.

She's way out his league. He's a nobody.

I've never been charmed by American nobodies.

One never knows where they've been.

But I know I'm over him.

-I recognize the signs. -What signs?

Well, I slept with someone else for one thing.

-You know, the guy that makes

those big iron sculptures.

Anyway, it's a sign.

-You have to admit. -Mm-hm. True.

Accidents happen.

Physics, huh?

It's philosophy, actually.

I'm finishing my Masters.

You know, it proves there is no absolute truth.

Everything is relative to your position

in the universe, right?

Exactement.

You know, we're all going to go celebrate

if you'd like to join us.

I'd love to, but unfortunately my friend made plans.

Sorry.

I'm sorry you're with him.

He did think you were robbing me, you know.

No, I think he thought I was robbing him.

-Well, maybe he was right. -Maybe from his position.

Not mine.

What about yours?

My position is known to change,

but at this moment, I'm with him.

So what would alter that?

I'd say I might change my mind

in two minutes if he doesn't appear.

Let's give him five just to be fair.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Hello!

Hello!

Hello!

Hello!

To Derwatt!

Whoo!

Solange... come here.

Now as you all know,

that I'm just another desperate artist slash madman.

full of wind and hype and rage for fame.

Oh, but tonight, I want to say something simple,

and I want to say it to my great love, Cynthia.

You are the mistress of my dreams.

Sweet.

You're the missing half of my soul.

I ask you-- no, I beg...

with every cell in my body, I want you to marry me.

Be my wife forever and a day, and the mother of my children.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Look at this,

I bet that fool wasted his whole advance on this.

He never fails to surprise, right?

What are you going to do?

I'm going to protect my investment

before that bitch destroys it.

Come on.

Christ, marriage.

I mean, where did that come from?

-Oh, God. -Come on, hurry up.

Everybody, quick!

You certainly topped yourself this time.

What was I supposed to do, Jeffrey?

Look, I'm not going to beat myself up over this.

Good, then let me.

Oh, God.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Oh, s-- shit.

-Derwatt? -No, stay back.

-Derwatt? -Stay back.

Derwatt!

Derwatt! Can you hear me?

Derwatt! Derwatt!

Derwatt! Why!

Come on! Come on!

Come on!

Tom?

-It's okay, it's okay.

It's okay. It's not your fault.

Damn right it wasn't my fault. You sick fuck.

He was a beautiful, sick fuck.

Oh.

Shouldn't we call an ambulance?

What's the point?

The prick's still probably laughing at us.

You don't get it, do you?

-He-- he was the real thing. -Maybe.

No one will ever know it, though.

-What do you mean? -It's over.

We won't sell a single painting tomorrow.

What are you talking about?

Once they find out that he's...

Well, there'll be a feeding frenzy, won't there?

Only if the artist is already famous.

He is. The Tate--

Won't even bother to hang those two paintings.

Museums and collectors buy paintings by artists

like Derwatt as investments for the future.

Now they'll dump him.

His future's over and so is mine.

You mean, none of his paintings are gonna sell now?

They're as dead as he is.

-Want some, Cyn? -I want a lot.

-Bernard? -Oh, yeah, right.

Snort it off his bloody forehead.

How can you do that at a time like this?

Cocaine was invented,

-for times like this. -Yes.

Oh, my God. That's Derwatt's.

What?

Yes, as a matter of fact,

it is an inconvenient time for you to call.

No, I believe I've given you bloodsuckers

all the interviews that will be given for quite some time.

So do me a favor, would you, and piss off.

What?

You're sick.

You're sicker than he ever was.

No, you were good.

I thought it was Derwatt.

Me too.

For a moment, I thought that...

Well, what if he wasn't dead, Jeff?

Then he's a better actor than you are.

No, no, no. I'm serious.

What if he isn't dead yet?

Then what?

Are you suggesting that we postpone the announcement?

-Oh, no. -For God's sake, Jeff.

I was talking about through the weekend, Bernard.

I don't-- I don't like this.

His paintings would sell out.

Then we re-stage this tragedy.

Yeah.

Only Jeffrey benefits.

It's not about that. I barely cover my costs.

I can't believe you.

Derwatt's corpse is sitting here, staring at me

and you're talking about selling his paintings.

All right, fine.

You know what, Bernard's probably right.

We can't do this.

Not while he's lying here.

We've got to move the body, Jeff.

Better get rid of the car first

-Is anyone listening to me? -Shh!

You're going to wake Heloise!

Bernard, get the flashlight.

This Is immoral.

Just keep telling yourself,

it's the only way that Derwatt's work will survive.

Okay, maybe.

Or maybe it's the only way Jeff will survive.

Jeff, give me a hand. Take his legs.

Shh!

Okay.

Okay.

-Oh, oh, watch it. -Shh!

The light's on the left.

Here, you hold him a second.

This suit's ruined.

Is there anything in there?

-Pork pie. -Ugh.

'97. High time you clean this out, Jeff.

Oh, come on, Tom.

This isn't right.

This isn't right at all.

He's slipping.

All right, give him to me.

Okay.

Oh, God.

Whatever.

-Ready? -Ready.

One, two, three.

God.

Come here.

We loved him, too. That's why we're doing this.

You can see that, can't you?

And not a word about this to sleeping beauty, all right?

Not a word.

So, we drop everybody off Jeff loans me the Jag,

I drive Heloise home.

The hell I will.

Yeah, you know what?

Maybe Bernard's right.

Maybe it's wrong to keep Derwatt alive.

Thank you.

Mademoiselle,you are home.

Merci.

But you knew how that I live here, Tom?

I, uh, checked your student card.

I didn't want to wake you,

so I took the liberty of checking your purse.

Wow, that's very considerate of you.

Thank you.

Good luck, Tom.

Okay. Goodbye.

-Am I so unpleasant? -What?

Am I too unpleasant that you wouldn't ask

to see me again?

Well, actually, to tell you the truth

I took your number, too.

Well, I see, huh?

You should tell a woman these, so she doesn't worry.

Yeah, I suppose.

Did my purse also happen to tell you

that I leave first thing in the morning for Paris?

No.

-For how long? -Forever.

Well, so I guess this really is goodbye.

Goodbye, Tom.

Goodbye.

-Am I so ugly? -I'm sorry?

Am I so ugly you wouldn't try to kiss me?

I don't know you well enough for that, Tom.

Goodbye.

45-31-22-45.

Wait, wait! What? What?

My number in Paris.

All I'm saying is

Oh, hold on.

Neil Murchison.

And you are Ms. Parker, Jeff Constant's assistant.

I remember you very well, Mr. Murchison, sir.

-So nice to see you again. -The pleasure is all mine.

And what a pleasure to be here on this special day.

-Please. -Thank you.

Hello, my darling. How are you?

Thanks so much for-- Oh, serpentine lady.

Claire, isn't it? Thank you for coming.

Mr. Constant.

-Look who's here. -Congratulations, sir.

We're as delighted as you are.

But of course, what did I tell you?

What did you tell me?

That Derwatt would be a success.

Neil Murchison, remember?

Yes, yes. Of course, Mr. Murchison

-from, uh, Iowa. -Close.

-Ohio, actually. -Ohio. Ohio.

Dayton Museum of Contemporary Art.

Or as we like to call it, the Bilbao of the mid-West.

-Yes. You're the curator. -No, no, no.

I'm strictly an amateur

writing checks and raising money.

But I know what I like and I want to remind you,

that the Dayton Contemporary start collecting Derwatt

full two years before the Tate.

Well, then, I should congratulate you, sir.

Your people got a bargain.

Oh, it's not a question of money.

We regard Derwatt as a significant artist.

His work represents an important return to painting

and we enjoy it.

Myself and Mrs. Murchison.

We sit and look at his paintings for hours,

until the pigment starts to speak.

Our relationship to paint is very intense.

Yes, I can imagine it is.

All I meant was, that the, uh, market has changed

since you bought.

The prices have gone up considerably.

I read the papers, too, Mr. Constant.

That's why, I wrote this check,

without even trying to haggle,

as much as I hate to pay full freight for anything.

Oh, but this one's sold.

You're kidding.

No, no. I was just going to put the red dot on.

To one of the buyers from the Tate.

There must be something else!

I'm sorry. We're sold out.

-Sold out? -Mm-hmm.

-You knew I was coming.

I flew 4,000 miles for this show,

to finally meet Mr. Derwatt

and to buy a couple of paintings.

I'm terribly sorry, but there's nothing I can do.

Oh, I see.

You're holding something back, waiting for the prices to go up.

Believe me, if I had anything,

I would love to sell it at these prices.

Good. Why don't you take this check

in exchange for his next piece of work?

-Oh, no, I couldn't possibly. -Well, what's the problem?

It's not like Derwatt is going to stop painting.

No, of course not.

Well why won't you accept my check?

I am his first collector.

Yes, of course you are.

Good.

So, then, the next Derwatt is yours.

Oh, yes.

Thank you.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

Tom!

-Sorry to keep you waiting. -No problem.

Oversold. What a difference a day makes.

And this is for a Derwatt painting,

that doesn't even exist.

Make a killing, then, did we?

Lots of profits to divvy up?

No.

I sold enough to nearly pay off my debts,

what with the overdraft, the taxes...

Oh, so Derwatt gets his fame

but you get his fortune?

You are going to screw him, Jeffrey.

Will you two stop bickering, please?

We need to get down to business, Jeff.

The poor bugger needs a proper burial.

Absolutely, yes.

Tom, this was your idea. What were you thinking?

No, no, you're his business partner.

I thought you'd like to take care of it.

What are these, Jeff?

My brilliant partner's unfinished works.

Could've been worth a mint.

Christ. I could drop this one downstairs.

It looks complete to me.

-Yeah. -Oh, God, Jeff, it does.

Run it down and cover some more expenses.

No! It's clearly not finished.

How can you say that?

It's art. Who's to say what's finished

-and what's not? -Derwatt always added a grid

of some sort to the painting at the end.

Now you're just being argumentative.

No, I'll show you.

Look...

if we start with some Derwattish style images, say,

a nude,

or, um, or a scar,

a bird, whatever.

Derwatt's easy to imitate.

His technique with rudimentary.

It was his balls that made him a star.

Now, a lot of painters start with one

but he always finished with a grid of some sort.

That's a Derwatt.

My God, Bernard, that's amazing.

Wow.

How long would it take you to do this in oils, Bernard?

Well, um...

Why?

Well, what if Derwatt wasn't dead

and all of these were complete, all of these?

Imagine how enriched the world would be.

At least how enriched Jeff would be.

-And Derwatt's heirs. -What heirs?

You know he's got no family.

Exactly, Cynthia.

Which is why he would have wanted his money

to go to his four closest friends.

A four-way split, after expenses.

It is what Derwatt would have wanted.

He actually often spoke about it.

Bullshit. He never did.

Cyn, tell them.

I think that he'd be happy for us to have the money.

Provided that got the fame,

-that was what he cared about. -I can't believe you.

-Are you serious? -And look.

Don't even have to return it.

No! No, no!

Stop, you wanker!

Power kill switch. Security feature.

Bernard, could you excuse us for a second?

Obviously, we can't do this

-without Bernard. -Mm-hm.

He'd do anything if you'd sleep with him.

Hmm. Well, what do you think?

One shag per painting?

Might take more than that.

Mm. I'm joking!

-I'm not. -Shh.

We're going to have to pull together

to make this work, all right?

I'm talking an even split a no expenses, Jeff.

Oh, what are you going to give him, Tom?

A reason.

Everyone's been focusing on Derwatt's talent.

His hype, his flash, whatever.

The real question is what about your talent, Bernard?

What's your point?

Who was the better artist, you or Derwatt?

-Me. -Yeah, of course you were.

But who got the shows, the attention,

the galleries, the critics, the girls? He did.

Why is that?

Because things don't always work out fairly in this world.

Exactly. Life isn't fair for real talent.

Fate isn't fair.

People as sure as hell aren't fair.

Answer me this.

How many of Derwatt's great inspirational ideas came to him

when he was having a pint with you?

A lot of them.

Except I don't see your name any of his canvasses.

-Do you, Jeff? -No.

No, the hard fact is that you could die

and no would even know you're a genius.

I'm talented. I'm not a genius

Oh, yes, you are, darling.

It's clear from your work.

It's subtle, sophisticated, much more than Derwatt's.

You don't know how many times I wanted to give you a show,

But, oh, the critics.

-Too risky. -Well, the fact is,

we can give you your shot of greatness

because you deserve it.

You're bastardizing Derwatt.

Not at all. We're immortalizing him.

And this time it's just the work, no bullshit,

no superficial focus personalities.

It's just your work.

-With his signature. -Exactly.

Exactly. We're deconstructing Derwatt.

Oh, how postmodern.

You just said it yourself.

Life isn't fair.

So now all you gotta do is decide.

You going to go on being a victim

or take what's yours?

You know, you're not alone in this.

We'll hold your hand through the entire process.

We're going to be richer than God.

"Each new canvas displayed a purity of vision

with his explosive passion and reclusive ways,

Derwatt is that near-extinct mix of satire profit

and pied piper."

"Derwatt's paintings reflect the same courage

with which he skewers the pretention

of the art world."

Yeah, it's me again.

Could you tell her that I'm coming to Paris

on business and I'd love to see her.

You're coming to Paris? When?

Tomorrow afternoon.

Oh, one moment.

I believe I hear Mademoiselle Plisson.

Un, deux, trois, quatre.

Hello, Tom.

It's so wonderful to finally speak with you.

Merci.

Merci.

-Hello, Tom. Welcome. -Hi! Hey!

Attila! Attila! Allez-vous en!

Hey.

Sorry, Tom. They're very protective.

They're worse than Papa sometimes.

Hi there.

Hello.

Oh, I got something for you.

For your garden.

Nothing much, but...

Got a little battered on the way over, but--

Well, then, let's find it a home. Come.

Well, let's hope they make it.

Ah, you don't have to worry.

There's something magical about the soil at Belle Ombre.

What do you mean magical?

There's actually a legend about it.

The story goes that a beautiful witch enchanted a marquis

into building this place for her.

She cast a spell on everything here that you see

so that it would flourish and grow.

I like that.

So when did your family move here?

The first day.

That witch was my great, great,

great, great grandmere.

Antoine Plisson.

Delighted to meet you.

Pleasure to meet you, sir.

Forgive my English.

I'm rather rusty,

but I expect you to remedy this

-while you're here. -Oh, I don't know.

Your English impeccable, sir.

Heloise told me a little about you.

I'm dying to hear more.

Ever since Heloise's mother died,

we prefer to stay here at Bell Ombre.

St. Tropez is not what it was.

Too much glitz and stuff. So vulgar.

And all the fakes, the fortune hunters...

Hmm. Shameless, like bad actors.

Yes, I do have a problem,

or more precisely, you have problem.

This Derwatt is not painted by Derwatt.

We are rich as sin.

To Derwatt.

Oh, and of course, to Bernard, too.

To you, and me and Bernard.

We've all come so far.

Mm. Time to take a break.

We don't want to flood the market after all.

And it's time for Bernard to start working

on his own things for his own exhibition...

as promised.

You've made me so deliriously happy.

I feel stronger, more, well, me.

Oh, I'm so glad.

It's always good to end on a high note, sweetheart.

To the end of our beautiful relationship.

Hello.

Yes, this is he.

Jesus H. Christ.

C'est jolie.It's lovely, Tom.

It was my mother's.

I had to leave home when I was really young.

She gave it to me before I left.

Am I so repulsive?

What?

Am I so repulsive that you wouldn't try to kiss me?

Kiss me.

Time to say good night, Tom.

Thank you, Tom.

You're welcome.

Hi.

Back before you know it, okay?

Where the hell are you?

What's your problem?

Our problem, Tom. Our problem.

A Herculean problem.

Our American friend is back,

claiming his new Derwatt is a fake.

All right, calm down. What American?

Murchison.

The one who gave me the check for the future Derwatts.

Well, I convinced him to wait until I talked to him.

But what are we going to do, Tom?

I don't know, Tom.

Faking a picture's one thing, but this...

It's all forgery, Jeff.

I don't get the distinction.

Uh, where are you going?

I need to lie down.

He's on edge.

Yes, well...

If you painted Derwatt's nightmares nonstop,

you'd be half mad as well.

And you didn't exactly help things did you?

Wait a second.

I thought Cynthia and Bernard were fine.

She cut him off before the last painting was dry.

-Enough is enough. -Oh, for fuck sakes, Cyn.

You are sitting on a fortune.

Literally.

Once these paintings have been sold,

the collectors will be begging for more.

You fuck Bernard.

Bernard paints Derwatts.

We all die very, very rich.

And Bernard can paint Derwatts from scratch now.

We could keep this going on forever.

You're not my pimp.

No, but that does not stop you from being a whore!

-Shut up. -Bastard.

Just shut up for a second and listen to me.

All right. Here's a letter from Derwatt

authenticating the painting. You give that to Murchison,

he'll be on the next plane for home happy as a clam.

I'm going back to see Heloise.

Here's her number.

You have any problems, you call me, all right?

Okay.

Is everyone satisfied?

Will it work?

Yes.

If Jeff can keep the coke off his lapel.

It's very trying managing a crisis.

That's for calling me a whore.

It's not important who this is.

Um, just don't buy any more Derwatts.

Ask to see Derwatt.

Forget about how I know.

No!

Ask to see Derwatt.

You know word gets around, whatever. Just do it.

Hey, Bernard.

Did you spill a little turpentine?

What are you doing, man?

Oh, God.

What's with the turpentine?

Get away. Get away!

-Oh, is he-- -Give me the lighter.

-No, get away. -Good God.

-Get away from me. -He's going to kill himself.

-Calm down. -Give it to me.

-He's going to kill himself. -No please. Stay away from me.

-It's all right. -Stop him!

I'm begging you, or I'll light! I'm dead anyway.

And leave me alone. You lying-- go away, go away!

-Stop it! -Go away!

Give me-- give it here.

It's okay, it's okay.

"And if he is dissatisfied,

he would do better to ask for the return of his money

than to put it about that this is some kind of fake."

Strong letter.

So many artists these days, they're practically illiterate.

It makes me feel a little better.

Oh, good. It certainly put my mind at rest.

There's nothing worse than questions of authenticity.

Nothing worse than thinking

you've been take for a fool.

Yes, of course. If you have any further doubts...

Uh, I'd like to hang onto that.

The thing is actually--

Why don't I just make a copy for you?

All right.

You know what does occur to me?

Yeah, what's that?

If Derwatt's abroad and sending the paintings back,

then perhaps something is happening with the shipping.

Maybe they aren't getting recorded correctly.

Wouldn't it be amazing if Derwatt himself

was being cheated?

I don't understand. What do you mean?

Well, what if Derwatts are being forged?

Being painted right here in London?

Amazing.

I thought about going to the Tate

to ask their opinion and even going to the police,

but I thought that might get messy.

Might I say how much I appreciate

that you understand the delicacy of this situation?

I do.

And that's why I decided to wait until I spoke with you,

and of course, Derwatt himself.

Speak with him?

I have a little theory I'd like to try out on the man.

Do you have his phone number?

-Whose? -Derwatt's.

Well, he's still abroad.

You must have a contact number.

Well, actually, the thing is I--

I prefer to talk to Derwatt

before I talk to the police.

Don't you think that's wise?

Yes, of course.

Good thinking.

I think I may actually have that number over here.

Oh, look. Yes. Here it is!

Uh, uh, that's okay. I'll copy it myself.

Chateau Belle Ombre. Where is that?

Oh, it's in France somewhere. Could be anywhere.

It's an enormous country, France.

Not by American standards.

Yeah, it's open.

Disgrace, ruin!

What? Murchison didn't buy the letter?

He wants to see Derwatt face-to-face, man-to-man.

Tough shit. Tell him Derwatt doesn't want to see him.

He has the address, Tom. He's off to France.

What address?

I had to give him that phone number you gave me.

-Oh, Jeff. -What else was I supposed to do?

Tell him to call Bernard.

Next thing I know he's on the bloody Internet

and got the address. Christ, I hate the Internet.

When's he leaving?

Went straight to Waterloo. I hate the Channel Tunnel, too.

All this faster communications crap

has caused us nothing but grief if you ask me.

Monsieur?

Monsieur Tom!

Hi.

But she is gone.

Monsieur Plisson took her to Paris this afternoon

-then they have dinner. -Oh.

Mademoiselle will be so disappointed.

Do you think it'd be all right if I stayed and surprised her?

She'd be so happy to see you!

Only I was just leaving.

I have to go to the village.

-Will you need me? -No, no.

If you're from the press,

piss off!

Mr. Derwatt?

No, I'm not a reporter or a critic.

I'm Neil Murchison.

And I gotta tell you, it's a real honor

to finally meet you.

Would you like a drink?

No, thanks. Only weddings and holidays for me, sir.

So, I believe I wrote you a letter about Faust's Bargain.

What can I tell you?

Well, I believe you painted

a painting called Faust's Bargain

but I just know that the picture sold to me

is 100% fake.

Now why would you think that?

A picture's worth a thousand words, right?

Do you mind?

No question that's my work.

It's close, sure, but...

look here.

Cobalt blue. And there.

And here.

And all through here.

Cobalt blue!

So?

Whenever I start a new project

I like to go down to the library,

or go online and read every damn thing.

And I love cobalt blue.

No, you used to.

But then, no cobalt blue for the last year,

not in any of them.

And now it's back and it's in my painting.

It's not a conscious choice, you know.

Stick with me on this, will you?

This is my theory.

Once an artist has used a certain color

at a certain period, then consciously

or unconsciously,

abandons the color in a later period.

He never reverts to that abandoned color again.

You see? Do you see?

What did you do for a living, Mr. Murchison, huh?

I'm in construction.

But you're not an artist, are you?

No, well, I wasn't trained

as an architect either, but when I donate something

to the city of Dayton

I want to make damn sure we're not getting screwed.

This is my work.

Definitely.

And I would believe you, if you were Derwatt.

You forgot what turpentine does

to an artist's fingernails, didn't you?

You don't even have any calluses.

Where is he? Why are you doing this?

It was an accident.

Derwatt's dead.

-When? -The night of his opening.

Oh, I knew it. You're a friend of Jeff Constant.

You're in it together.

You've betrayed an artist's vision.

I'm not going to let you cheat the good people of Dayton.

This painting will put Dayton on the map.

Dayton is on the map, you little shit.

What are you doing? Hey! Hey!

Give it to me.

Get off me.

No, you can't.

That's evidence.

-Get the hell off. -That's evidence!

-Just listen to me please. -Stay away!

Just listen to me for a second.

Nietzsche!

Nietzsche.

The name's, uh, Murchison.

I need to change my reservation tonight.

Uh,15.

Come on.

Merci.

Come on, guys. Let's go.

Nietzsche, Attila, Caesar. Come on.

Come on, boy. Let's go! Come on!

Tom? You came back already.

I had to see you.

I hope this is all right.

Annette told me to just make myself at home.

Of course, there's no problem.

Ah.

I am so sorry. I, uh, I'm so clumsy.

Yes.

I think my great, great grandfather

paid hardly anything for it.

I'm so clumsy. I feel terrible.

It's okay. It's okay.

Marvelous, those tomatoes.

You must be Tom,

uh, one of the partners in Derwatt Limited.

I'm sorry. You are?

Oh, uh, my name is Webster. I'm a detective of sorts.

London Metropolitan Police. How do you do?

Bit of a way from Scotland Yard isn't it?

Now, what do you use to get them so perfect?

-Sunshine, water and love.

You were saying?

I was saying?

What a British policeman is doing in France.

-Vacation? -Oh, alas, no.

I'm here officially working with the local authorities,

of course.

It seems a certain well-connected

American businessman by the name of Murchison

was supposed to arrive in London a few days ago

and failed to do so.

Now, according to his wife, Murchison was coming here

to talk with this painter, Derwatt,

about some possible forgery.

Mm, not exactly. Murchison was here,

but to talk about Derwatt not with him.

-Oh, really? -Mm-hmm.

Well, his wife was very clear on that point.

No, no. Fact is, these days, uh,

Derwatt doesn't see anybody.

Oh, oh, right.

So Mr. Murchison came to see you, Tom?

And what transpired between you two?

Well, I was able to put his mind at ease

and he left here completely reassured of his painting.

I don't believe you.

How's that?

There is no way you could get such marvelous tomatoes

without some special fertilizer.

Well, they do say there's something magical

-about this soil here. -Oh, gosh,

it wouldn't be hard to get used to this kind of life,

now would it?

So how do you know Murchison didn't just cut loose?

Men like Murchison don't go off on spur-of-the-moment sprees.

They like their sprees to be scheduled.

They keep their demons on a tight rein.

-Oh, was there an accident? -What's that?

The dust on top of this pedestal.

The clean circle in the middle of it.

Did something fall off?

Yeah, I knocked off a vase.

Oh, ho, ho. Naughty boy.

It was a nice one.

So, after you allayed

whatever fears Mr. Murchison may have had

about his painting,

what happened?

Oh, well, he stayed a little longer than he expected,

so he had to change his train reservation.

So after he made the call, I drove to La Gare du Nord

and that was the last time I saw him.

What time did he book his reservation?

Oh, it was30-ish.

Oh, what a remarkable memory you have.

The phone records say32.

You checked the phone records.

Yes.

Oh, speak of the devil. Do you mind?

Oh, sure. Please.

Hello?

Yeah, I'm here.

We're in a really nasty jam, do you hear me?

Yeah, I'm a little distracted at the moment, Jeff.

Just-- Just take it slow, all right?

How do you do? My name is Webster.

Shit.

I've had the police around.

It seems Murchison's been kidnapped or something.

What do you mean kidnapped? Are you kidding?

Yes, well, th-- they say he never made it back to London.

You didn't knock him over the head or anything, did you?

Yeah, and I buried him in the backyard, Jeff.

Could you just focus?

The thing is before he went to see you,

he made several phone calls

and I've already had reporters calling me here.

I-- I told them that Murchison would set them straight

but if he's disappeared we're going to have

the press all over us, Tom

and our trousers around our ankles.

Tom? Tom, are you there?

Look, just schedule a press conference

for tomorrow night at the gallery.

I'll meet you at the studio beforehand.

-Okay? -Have you been listening to me?

I'm trying to avoid the press.

Just tell them Derwatt will be there.

He'll answer all their questions.

Derwatt?

He'll answer all their questions.

Tom, are you insane?

Shit.

Tom? Tom?

Christ, I hate mobile phones.

Sorry about that.

It must be frustrating for you.

So little to go on.

Oh, I'm not worried. Not at all.

Clues are rather like cigarette ash in bed.

Sooner or later the smoke begins to rise.

Hey, Bernard.

Oh, y-- you wouldn't happen

to be Mr. Bernard Sales

of Derwatt Limited, would you?

What a stroke of luck. Why are you doing here?

My girlfriend just left me and I came to see Tom.

Aw.

Well, hey. Come in.

All right. Let me cut straight

to the heart of the matter.

These alleged forgeries to your knowledge,

was there anyone, absolutely anyone at all

who might have borne Mr. Murchison ill will

-because of them? -No.

No one at Derwatt Limited?

Well, surely, Surely he could be seen

as a threat to the firm's reputation.

-That's ridiculous. -Bernard?

Well, of course, not to my knowledge. No.

You must know that, uh, Mr. Murchison

called his wife several times when he was in London.

-She's most insistent on that. -Huh.

He wasn't very well liked

by your company, was he?

-Some people thought-- -No.

Mr. Murchison was dissatisfied with one painting,

not the entire gallery.

-Bernard? -No.

Well...

Hello!

-Bernard! -Hello.

-What a lovely surprise. -Yeah.

And who is our guest?

Um, Mr. Webster of Scotland Yard.

-How do you do? -Pleased to meet you.

He's, uh, here, apparently, because one of our clients

has gone missing.

That's awful.

If you think of anything, anything at all,

contact me at the Hotel Duchamp

which is, just down the road. I shall be having supper

with my French colleagues.

Here, let me give you my card.

-"Little Bombay Take-Away."

Please forgive me. I'm terribly sorry.

Give you that one.

Mademoiselle, would you be so kind

as to speak to me on the way out?

Of course.

Nietzsche.

To the right.

Tell me, Mademoiselle,

what exactly do you know about your boyfriend?

I know his childhood was very painful.

I make it my job that his time with me is not.

-You understand, no? -Yes, I do.

-So, you're amused by me?

No, no, no, on the contrary. I'm, I'm, most impressed.

Good day, Mademoiselle.

Good day.

I wish you would have let me call a cab.

No way. I'm driving you myself.

I thought you were going to confess the whole

-bloody thing back there. -It's driving me mad.

But most of the time I feel like I'm Derwatt.

And now it's as if I'm faking me now, you know?

I can't bear it any longer.

I'm going to tell Webster everything,

just like I told Murchison.

-You told Murchison what? -To ask to see Derwatt.

You're an idiot, Bernard.

You know, you have no idea

what you're talking about, do you?

Tom, you can't just do something like this

-without paying a price. -No? Why?

The universe won't allow it.

-God won't allow it. -Oh, you need absolution.

Fine, Bernard. I'll show you absolution.

What would you be willing to do for love, Bernard?

I'm cold, Tom. Please.

I mean true love.

The kind that can lift a man

from the darkest depths of hell.

The kind that isn't-- that isn't worth living without.

What would you be willing to do for a love like that?

I suppose I'd be willing to sacrifice

just about anything.

Anything? Well, then you won.

You're scaring me.

Shine the flashlight right here.

What are you doing?

You're the one who really killed him, Bernard.

The minute you told him to see Derwatt,

you dug his grave.

You can confess to God Himself

but you will not get clean in this.

No, no. God, no!

You can't run from this, all right?

Uh, look, it's very important that I need to see--

I need to look to see the, uh...

-the policeman.

It's him! I'm not sorry.

You're not sorry about what?

I'm not sorry I killed Tom.

No, no, no, no, no, no,

this is wrong. This is-- This all wrong.

The man was buried here.

No, no. It was-- It was-- The body, it was buried here.

No. A-- And Tom-- Tom was on that spot over there

and he was dead. He was dead. I'm certain.

Are you?

Look, the-- the rain.

The rain must have filled up the pit.

No, no!

It can't be true now.

There.

That's a Derwatt, right? I'm not mad.

I want a body, Bernard.

I'm not interested in some flipping little art fiddle.

I want a body.

Murchison, Derwatt. I don't care which.

And if you don't help me now I won't help you later.

Derwatt's body's in Jeff's cottage.

It's in the countryside somewhere

about an hour's drive from London.

I can't tell you precisely where it is

but I-- I know I can find it.

What happened to you?

Oh, I had an accident.

Let me do it.

Here, let go.

Oh, it's bad.

How did this happen?

Well, you know when you want something...

something so extraordinary, but it's out of your reach?

Well, sometimes you just have to do very difficult things.

What more difficult things are left for you to do?

Just one.

I have to go back to London immediately.

Then I'll go with you.

Bonjour.Thank you.

You wouldn't think I used to be a boxer, would you?

To look at me, I mean.

Oh, well. Such is life.

You know, Bernard, all I had to do is take this card

with your friend Tom's fingerprints on it

and give it to my French chums.

And my goodness, he's got quite a lot of form.

There's forgery, credit card theft,

identity fraud.

He thinks he's a very clever lad, I'm sure.

Bonjour, MonsieurWebster.

Oh.

Oh, you stupid

You stupid clumsy fellow! What's...

He's on the train.

Hey.

Come on. Wake up.

I'll go this way. You go that way.

-Come here. Come on. -Slow down.

If you see him, come and find me immediately.

-Now go. -Excuse me.

-Sorry. -Tom.

You see, I have this-- this mortal fever

and the cure's on your lips.

-Come on. -Wait.

Come on. Come on. Come on.

And what motor would you like, sir?

Whatever you have is fine.

How about something sporty?

Just go straight ahead.

Back in a second.

Do you need any help?

No. I'm good, thanks.

Okay. Whatever you say.

I shouldn't be long.

Sorry.

I think it's on the right.

Hey there.

Mm-hmm.

Oh.

All right.

I'm sorry, I-- yeah.

I think it must have been on the left.

Sorry.

Hey, did you get what you needed?

Yeah. It's all good.

Your hands are like ice.

There it is!

Let's go out the back way.

I want to see more of the forest.

Yes, ma'am.

I seem to remember it from a dream.

So strange.

Oh, no!

If you drive any faster,

time will start to go backwards.

-What? -If you drive any faster,

we'll go faster than the speed of light

and time will start to go backwards.

That means I get to fall in love with you all over again.

Yes, I think our friend Tom is behind this

and I think we ought to bring him in.

And the other one, too.

What?

What, a press conference with Derwatt?

According to, uh, to Bernard, he's as dead as a doornail.

So it'll be really fascinating to see who turns up.

Well, of course I'm going to go.

Yeah, I might be able to bag the lot of them.

Oh, bloody hell. He's done a runner.

When the rabbits run, that's when the dogs show up.

All right.

I'll be back soon.

-But if I'm not... -Mm-mm-mm.

You'll be back soon.

You are not always careful, Tom.

Promise me you'll be careful.

I promise.

You could be involved in a murder investigation.

-Murder? -Murder?

Murder, fraud,

body snatching too,

according to your associate, Bernard Sayles

Of course he'll walk away from most of this,

having been so very helpful to the police.

As for this proposed press conference with Derwatt,

if Mr. Ripley shows up

don't let him know anything's amiss.

Whatever he says, go along with it.

I want to give him enough rope

so that he can hang himself.

So to speak.

So to speak.

Oh, God.

Sorry.

Do you think we should lay on some drinks for the press?

Absolutely.

It's my funeral and after all,

what's a good funeral without tons of booze?

Now don't start spiraling, Jeffrey.

It's all falling down around our heads.

You're coked off your head, aren't you?

Darling, if I were any higher, I'd be talking to Jesus.

Listen! We tell the police everything!

Really?

Murderers force people to do things.

We were frightened for our lives. Hold this.

Well, now that you mention it,

I mean, he did scare me a little.

And after all, what are a few extra charges

when you're accused of murder?

And anyway, it'll serve him right

for dragging us into this bloody train wreck.

-Kicking and screaming, huh?

Oh, my God. I think I've just had a stroke.

You see as I recall, I dragged you guys

kicking and screaming all the way to the bank.

So what'll "serve me right," Jeff?

It'll serve you right if...

-if they laugh at you.

-I mean... -Yes.

...I don't know what you have in mind,

unless you plan to go into a room full of journalists

and try to impersonate Derwatt.

Oh, my God! You are!

-You're not. Are you? -Shut up.

Oh, hey.

I just saw Inspector Webster leave here a minute ago.

-Really? -Oh.

So, I assume he got to you, did he?

That's right, Tom, he did.

Well, you're a murderer.

Darling, you know that I would do anything for you,

but we really do need to take care of ourselves here.

Oh, hey, just for the record, I'm not a murderer.

Right. Okay.

Even though I do have a dead body in the car.

Anyway, I don't have time to argue about all of that

if I'm going to get ready to meet with the press.

But I just can't have you guys talking to the police anymore.

Yes, Tom.

I mean, who knows what you're liable to tell them.

-Nothing. -Really. Absolutely nothing.

-We wouldn't say a word. -My lips are sealed.

-Oh.

Ah, I really wish I could trust you guys.

Because if you kept your mouths shut,

everything could turn out just fine.

So just take some time to think about it, all right?

Well, at least he didn't kill us.

I never thought he was going to.

Yes, you did!

Take me to see Derwatt's body.

What are you doing with that? Are you crazy?

So they say.

Go on, get in, get in.

It's Oliver, Sir. They're just leaving.

Thank you.

How much farther?

Oh, very close, Bernard. Very close.

I can't believe I did it.

Did what?

Stopped you before it was too late.

Oh, yeah? How do you figure?

You're evil, Tom. You know that?

Everything you do is evil. You're not human, Tom.

Well, it's true.

I haven't always been a good person, Bernard.

But an angel descended,

and since then I've really tried.

An angel?

What, you don't believe in angels?

No, I don't believe you'll ever see one.

See that's where you're wrong.

A beautiful, golden angel descended upon me

and has led me to the path of righteousness.

-How can that be evil, huh? -Shut up!

Everyone says I'm crazy. I'm the crazy one.

-But it's you, Tom.

You're fucked in the head, mate.

In one ear and out the other going backwards.

You're fucked in the head.

Tom, for God's sake, stop it!

Tom, I'm serious.

Turn that fucking thing down! I'm serious!

Shit.

Tom. What's that?

We're getting fumes in from the tank, Tom.

No, no.

It's just the gasoline in the back seat, Bernard.

What?

There's a can of gas behind your seat.

Well, why is there a can of gas behind my seat?

So the car can burn when we crash.

-But why would you crash it? -Oh, I'm not going to crash it.

But what?

Derwatt is.

Bloody Christ!

I can't feel my legs, Tom.

Tom!

Tom, what are you doing? What are you doing?

Don't leave me in here with him.

Get me out of here. Tom, please.

What are you doing? Get me out of here.

Stop, Tom.

I can't feel my legs, Tom.

I can't move my legs, mate.

What you doing?

Tom, get me out!

You got to help me, mate.

You're a monster.

Get me out!

Tom, get me out of here!

Oh, you bastard! You sick bastard!

I just saved your miserable life, Bernard.

So he starts yelling

and waving his gun around like a lunatic saying,

"I'm Derwatt. I'm the real Derwatt."

You know, and he really believes it.

So they're screaming back and forth,

and Derwatt's driving like a maniac as usual.

And Bernard's waving the gun around like a lunatic.

Now, wait. Derwatt was in the car with you?

Yeah.

Fascinating story.

There's someone's in there.

You're telling me that that's Derwatt?

Oh, yeah, of course. It's like I've been telling you.

We were on our way to the press conference.

They got into an argument, and the next thing I know,

we're wrapped around a tree.

And I suppose, uh, quite conveniently,

that Derwatt's life is insured for millions by your company?

That, I wouldn't know, but that's entirely possible.

And you think this little house of cards

would stand up in a court of law?

Yeah, I do.

In fact, I think the evidence will speak for itself.

What about Bernard?

What about what he says happened?

Personally, I think Bernard suffered a nervous breakdown.

Just last week, he tried to kill himself.

if it wasn't for Jeff and Cynthia and I,

he wouldn't be here.

And here's the kicker. Tonight he tells me I'm evil

and that he thought that he'd killed me.

I did kill you, and I'll kill you again...

-you evil bastard! -I don't think it would be fair

to drag Bernard into court.

I'm going to get him, I am!

I can't see how his testimony would hold weight.

Oh, this dance isn't over yet.

Not by a stretch.

Hey, you guys.

I thought you could use a little bubbly.

You are an angel.

-Good luck. -Enjoy the show.

Bye.

I always knew that Tom would land on his feet.

Absolutely.

You know what this room really needs?

-What? -A great big Derwatt.

There's a gentleman waiting downstairs for you.

Oh, merci,Sophie.

Ah, what impeccable timing.

If my timing was impeccable, you'd be behind bars now.

Did you know that invitations were required

-for these occasions? -Oh, don't be inhospitable.

I've brought you a wedding present.

Remember this?

No.

Well, how could you?

Bernard painted it while he was relaxing

in the sanatorium.

Yeah, I see he signed Derwatt's signature, too.

Sure hope he wasn't arrested for forgery.

No, on the contrary. I was most appreciative.

Well, obviously it's-- it's a crime scene.

-Mm-hmm. -There you are

lying on the ground, knocked unconscious by Bernard

and there is the late Neil Murchison.

Now, I didn't recognize him at first.

So, on a hunch, I called his wife.

Now, according to Mrs. Murchison,

hardly anyone knew that her husband wore a toupee.

-Really? -Bernard knew.

Bernard had seen him without his toupee.

Bernard was painting him from life...

or rather death.

Hmm.

Let me show you something.

I've always wondered whether you really had green fingers

or whether, as you say, there was something magical

about the soil of Belle Ombre.

Well, let's see if it's magical enough

to make a body vanish.

Mr. Plisson has taken a keen interest

in all the gardening you've been doing recently.

Well, you're welcome to play in the garden all you like.

But you'll have to excuse me, because it's my wedding day.

I'm not beaten yet.

So that'll be your little secret.

Am I so ugly you don't want to kiss me?

Did you know that her father's a widower?

-Really? -Mm.

Oh, by the way, darling,

what did you do with our friend from Ohio?

I'm glad you reminded me.

We have to make a stop before the airport.

Sweetheart, you think of everything.

I try.

Such a perfect place for a wedding.

We should really find a way to thank your father.

I think the nicest way we could thank Papa

is help him to move on...

to a better world.

And all of this will be ours.