Col cuore in gola (Deadly Sweet)

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Pop, the 12th one.

Open.

- May I open?

- Open.

Is he your husband, madam?

Ok, Pop.

He died instantly,

miss Burroughs.

By a concussion.

So far there's no trace

of the car running down him.

Deadly Sweet

Merci.

Hey Bernard, how do you do?

Ah, you're looking at

Jane Burroughs, aren't you?

Forget her.

Her father has just passed away.

That one is Jerome, her brother.

They are consoling themselves

together.

Damn, what a bedlam!

Shall we dance too, will you?

They have it in just for me, I don't

understand. They are unbearable.

What's the matter with you?

Forget them, don't care about them.

A happy family, isn't it?

He's the mother's consolation.

Leris, an art dealer.

This is what he uses to say

about himself at least.

Dunno, let's forget that.

And you, what are you doing

here alone?

Well, bye, keep in touch

if you wish.

- Thank you, would you like to sit

down, darling? - No. - Please...

Let's go, come.

- Take it into my account.

- What?

Note down.

I'm sorry, your account

has been closed.

It's a Mr. Prescott's

order. I'm sorry.

Understood, I understood.

It wasn't me to do that.

It wasn't me to do that.

That car, there!

Qu'est-ce que c'est ton nom?

Wie heisst du?

Cmo te llamas?

Pos onomate es?

What's your name?

- What?

- Jane.

Ah, my name's Tarzan.

So, Jane, where are we going?

What did you do inside

that room?

I saw you left the club.

Why did you come back there?

Why did you go up to

Prescott's?

Was he your lover?

Jane!

Jane!

Jane! Move, come on,

don't be childish.

About you and him

I don't give a damn.

If I'm asking you for it, it's

just for helping you out. Come on.

Move, come on.

Let's go, come.

As soon as Martha entered

the club together with Leris,

I was beside myself

with rage.

I went out to give vent

to my feelings.

And when I came back

I went up to Prescott's...

and he was there, lying down

the floor.

- Just like you saw him too.

Do you believe me? - Sure.

Yes, yes, and your brother?

Jerome, he went out together

with you, didn't he?

No, I don't know where

he went. Why?

But why did you go up

to Prescott's?

Because he was waiting for me. It has

been a week since daddy has passed away.

Swept away by a car.

Everybody said

it was an accident.

But I don't believe it.

I know exactly Prescott tried

to blackmail my daddy.

What?

Yes.

Ah, a blackmail.

And why?

- What did he do?

- Daddy?

Nothing at all.

He was a formidable man.

Immaculate, honest, even a guy a bit of

the old stamp but unable to do evil at all.

No, in case it's Martha.

Prescott had a strange picture

of his.

He wanted to use it

to compromise daddy.

This woman was so beautiful

that she was scaring me.

Oh, Bernard!

I'm explaining to you how things are

and you aren't even listening to me?

- So, did you understand?

- It's a very simple story.

Who killed Prescott

has stolen Jerome's picture too.

Or, if you prefer, who stole

Jerome's picture

has killed Prescott.

But why? Who?

Unless that picture was

somewhere else instead.

What are you doing?

I'm going to Prescott's.

Do you know where's his house?

At no. 23, Belgrave Road.

Ok, wait for me here.

I'm coming with you too.

No, you've to stay here.

Oh no, Bernard, be careful,

it's dangerous. Throw it away.

Yeah, you're right.

I took it only to

complicate this story.

Bye.

To fund a counter.

Upstairs, hurry up!

Sh*t. The police.

Holy cow!

Be still!

What me worry?

I'm in a hurry, man, pull out the

agenda you stole from Prescott.

Ah, that one.

Here's it!

It's me, Jane.

You have scared me.

Open the door.

I didn't expect you'd come

back so quickly.

Open the door, there's pretty

much mystery in the universe.

Wait.

Ok, I'm waiting.

Did you find out the picture?

No, no picture.

What now?

Bernard, please, reply.

What now, so?

So, I don't smoke.

"Water on a woman's body

is like a dew

on a rose's petals".

Lao Tse.

Who is?

A Chinese poet.

"Talk about you, LSD".

Lao Tse?

No, Nadine.

Hello, Bernard?

Bernard, can you hear me?

Hello, Bernard!

Where are you?

At my home. Listen

to me, Bernard...

At what time did you leave?

I don't remember.

You were sleeping.

Why didn't you wake up me?

Jane, hello, Jane? Reply, Jane.

Why did you go away?

Hello?

Come on, Bernard, now I cannot

talk with you, but I've to meet you.

I'm coming immediately.

No, you cannot come.

Are you mad?

Yes, absolutely.

Tell me where do you live.

Hello, Jane? Reply.

You cannot come here,

let's meet outside instead.

Where?

I don't know, wherever you want.

Piccadilly Circus?

That's right, in front of

the movie theater at the corner.

Ok, in 20 minutes.

Agreed, bye.

Bye.

- Bernard, I've to talk with you.

- Me too, but not here. Let's enter.

- They are pursuing me.

- I know, I read the newspapers.

The Defense Minister

of Israel,

has sent his assault troops

against Rau's forces.

Israeli army is fighting on 3

fronts:
Sinai, Jordan...

The police came to my home.

The police?

Yes, they are interrogating all the persons

who were at Prescott's yesterday night.

- Did you see Jerome?

- What?

Jerome, your brother,

did you see him?

Ah, no, no, he hasn't come back home

this night. No, I didn't see him.

In the Far East fights between Vietcong

and American Marines are going on...

Does he use to do that?

What?

I want to know if he usually don't

come back home at night often.

Ah, well, yeah.

Often enough, yes.

- Where does he go?

- I don't know.

To his friends, boys and girls.

But why are you asking me for that?

Oh, Bernard, tell me what

you're thinking of.

I think, dear Jane, that your dear Jerome

must know a lot of things about this story.

At London, a demonstration

against violence

in Trafalgar Square.

Don't worry, we'll find him,

you'll see.

Come on, move.

Let's go and search for him.

Why are you silent?

Why should I speak?

Tell me something about Jerome.

There's a little to say.

He uses to speak a little too.

Let's search for him where he

uses to go.

Also Edgar says that the best

way to hide for someone

is to make himself very

conspicuous.

Citizens of London, let's restore

stakes, death sentence and flogging.

Let's sentence alcohol, smoking,

gambling, sex.

Let's set fire to miniskirts

And destroy chocs with liqueur.

Let's chase away gays,

socialists, suicides, fornicators.

Stop with the modern

immoral morals.

Ehm, stop with the Beatles

and the Rolling Stones.

Let's start all over again. "

Let's start all over again.

Who are you, my angel?

My name is Jane Burroughs,

My parents are dead. Height, 5

feet and 4 inches and a half.

Blonde hair, blue eyes.

Nothing as to particularities.

- Breast, 34. Hips?

- I don't know.

But your mother is not dead.

Martha isn't my mother. Mama

died when I was 7 years old.

And the day when daddy

got married again with Martha,

it's like as he had

died too.

I grew up alone with Jerome,

so we care for each other.

He's more than a brother,

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