Confidentially Yours Page #4

and closed the door

with my hand like this.

It would be a miracle

if I'd left no prints!

Did you tell them that?

I couldn't... I didn't know.

When Santelli showed me

the pictures, I was upset.

Because you're a ninny!

Besides, why go to the cops?

I told you to see my lawyer.

You're all mixed up.

You keep on getting me in deeper.

I'm going to call my lawyer.

Let me tell you something first.

Your dear lawyer thinks

you're guilty.

Did he say so?

He almost did.

True, he adores you.

"My best friend...

my close friend..."

But what he really craves

is a chance to display his eloquence

by pleading a crime of passion.

He said:

"The French adore love affairs...

"I'll get Julien Vercel acquitted."

You still want to call him?

Look!

Between your lawyer...

and Santelli:

The creep who came here.

The summer camp?

I'm sure of it.

He's snooping around.

First, he's there

when they remove the body.

Then, he just happens

to drop in here.

It's not a coincidence.

Stop scratching your ear:

it's annoying.

But it helps me to think.

Dial the number

of the Eden Cinema.

You want to see a movie?

No, I want to speak

to the manager.

Massoulier owned it,

so she may know something.

She might know

whom he spoke to last.

The Eden:
Next show at 8:30.

Good morning,

I'd like to speak to the manager.

There is no manager.

Do you know this voice?

I'm not sure.

She's the nut

who makes those phone calls.

To be sure...

I'll call back and keep her talking.

I just want to know...

if "Paths of Glory"

is a love story.

It's a war film

between the French and Germans.

Canons and soldiers.

Are there any women?

The soldiers carry photos

of their wives...

So, it's a love story?

There's love, battles, songs,

emotions and tutti quanti.

Orchestra or balcony?

It's about Mr. Massoulier.

The film is half over

but it's up to you.

Do you know who he met last?

I know who sent you.

If he had any decency,

he would kill himself.

You're all wrong.

Mr. Vercel isn't guilty.

Don't be indecent!

He wasn't the only one.

Many men were drooling

around that b*tch.

It turned ugly

when that slut hit town.

Yes, she was a slut!

Go away!

Listen to me!

I too want to know the truth.

Go away!

Either go in, or go out.

I'm just looking at the posters.

This is the lobby...

you're in the way.

I'm asking you to leave.

- How much?

- What?

How much is it?

It's past 7:
35. P.m.

So, you saw Barbara?

I couldn't get a word out of her,

but I'm sure she knows a lot:

I saw her

leaving the lawyer's office.

She was hysterical.

She just went into a brand new

cabaret, "The Red Angel."

I thought that was in Nice.

It's the same name.

I could hardly believe my eyes.

There's a restaurant name...

- "Thi Loan."

- A Vietnamese?

We sold the property,

it's in our files.

She just came out.

What's her name?

I can't just walk up

and ask her name.

She's leaving. I'll follow her.

Barbara, wait. Be careful!

You're late, sir.

You're late and you're losing

your keys.

Has the rehearsal started?

Are we friends again?

You're a lunatic!

Why? Because I want

to sleep with you?

Do divorced couples make love?

It happens every day.

What about Genevieve?

She left me because of you.

I said your name

when I slept with her.

Yes, I know,

while you work like angels,

I miss one rehearsal out of two

and we play

next Sunday.

I've let you down.

So, either you trust me

to be letter perfect...

or else, replace me...

Is this alright?

You've got some nerve!

No, she looks just fine.

Very pretty.

Go on!

Don't mind me.

Go ahead.

"Me hate him? Oh no!

"you're all wrong.

"I've admired him all along."

"Berard! He rides past,

his head unbowed."

I'll run along.

I don't want to intrude.

"You obviously prefer

"Le Provencal"...

"To our amateur efforts

at rehearsal."

I know the cashier's name:

It's Paula Delbeque.

That's a big help.

What about the "Red Angel" file?

Nothing of interest.

"Mme Loan sold

all of her restaurant stock...

"as follows:

Look!

Delbeque!

It's the same name.

I can't figure it out.

Why would the major stockholder

of a nightclub...

work as a cashier

in a crummy cinema?

It's vital that I talk to her.

Don't be crazy!

All the cops have your picture.

Let me go!

You can't handle it.

Besides, she knows you.

She won't see me.

I'll sneak into her flat.

If they used her as a cover,

she's got files. I'll find them.

Don't you think I can?

Cut it out?

Who is accused of murder?

I get all the dirty work and...

Stop yelling!

Who can that be?

Don't answer it.

I won't. I've got to leave.

You're stubborn, but so am I.

We're both whispering since

the phone rang.

I borrowed

"Le Provencal" car.

It's final:
I'm telling you...

What? That I'm fired?

That's already done.

Don't be afraid, it's me.

If this is risky,

I should be in on it, right?

It's really unfair:

if a boss can fire me,

why can't I fire him?

Keep out of sight.

We're at the Eden.

I'm slowing down.

Do you recognize the cashier?

I certainly do.

She was Massoulier's mistress

long ago. It didn't last.

I assure you she still loves him.

She's stuck there

between the two evening shows.

One hour to search her apartment,

that's enough to find something.

It's there, on the 4th floor.

I'll go up and you watch.

No way!

I'll go and you watch!

Don't argue.

As you like.

What are you doing here?

I didn't kill him?

He's not dead?

He's breathing.

If we don't stop him,

he'll come to real fast.

We must do something.

You know...

this guy...

I'm certain he's the killer.

Not necessarily.

I'm positive, it's him.

I'd say there are

Tying up an unconscious man

isn't very heroic.

We're no heroes!

The police?

How about some protection?

Robberies night after night!

there's a customer for you.

What did you do that for?

To accelerate your release.

What are you waiting for?

Can you start it?

I'll handle it.

Look, it's flooded.

What got into you?

I saw it in a movie.

Let's wait to see how it winds up.

We'll find out

in the morning paper.

I feel dizzy.

You're O.K.?

It's the first time

I slugged a man.

By the twelfth,

I'll have the knack.

With all what's happened

in the past two days...

it's only now I realize

that Marie-Christine's gone.

I lived with a stranger

for 2 years.

I sensed there was something

wrong, but I ignored it.

I wonder why she came here.

- Was she your client at first?

- No, I found the store for her.

She closed her beauty salon

soon after opening it.

She claimed she wanted

to be with me.

I liked her, I really did...

you can't understand.

In that case,

why tell me about it?

Death is a strange thing.

When people die of illness...

it's cruel and unfair,

but it's really death.

When it's a crime,

or a killing...

death becomes abstract...

as if the solution

to the mystery had priority.

It's like reading a thriller.

And yet Marie-Christine is dead...

and so is Massoulier.

From here, our town looks lovely.

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