Confidentially Yours Page #6

or take me with you.

Impossible.

Because you despise me?

I don't despise you.

Well, I despise you...

and moreover...

I love you.

A blind man could see that!

You've never looked

at me as a woman.

Since I'm not a platinum blonde

with fake eye lashes,

I haven't got a chance!

Ask me the question

you asked before.

I'm asking you.

The answer is yes.

You're taking me?

No, I need 24 hours.

I'll call you tomorrow...

and you'll join me.

I feel like a complete idiot.

Does it mean I'm in love?

I've felt that way

for the past 6 months.

I can't wait.

Wait for what?

Wait for next Sunday.

Hear that?

I hear nothing.

It's not normal.

We always hear street noises.

Take a look.

It's quiet.

Everything's alright.

It's been two minutes

since I kissed you.

I know who the killer is.

Good work!

You've been despicable

all along!

I didn't kill Massoulier,

I didn't kill my wife...

I didn't kill the Eden cashier.

Is that your story?

We could write

a book about your wife.

Did you know she married you

under a false name?

You're real funny.

It's no laughing matter.

Your marriage isn't valid...

because under her real name

of Josiane Kerbel...

was married

to a Belgian horse trainer.

He went to jail for doping a horse.

He always claimed she did it.

Meanwhile, she was living it up.

An ex-lover was blackmailing her,

so she drove to France.

She got drunk

and ran over a soldier.

She drove off

leaving him to die on the road.

So aside from Interpol,

insurance companies

were on her trail. Here you are!

We've got your client...

and all your legal

wiles won't get him out.

Let me go on

with the report on his wife.

It's very interesting.

We'll skip the rubber checks.

She lands in Nice

and opens a beauty salon.

When you married her,

she heaved a sigh of relief:

She needed to lie low at that time.

How's that?

It's still funny.

Yes, she needed time...

but with Massoulier around,

it wasn't easy.

I never speak ill of the dead...

but if it wasn't for Massoulier,

all this mess...

Little boys play with toy railroads,

stations, houses, cars, garages.

Later on, they find out they can't

all belong to one man.

They learn to share,

to go into partnership.

Massoulier had remained

a little boy:

He wanted the beauty salon,

the cinema, the cabaret,

the brothels, he wanted them all!

Damn it! I remind you that 3 persons

were killed after Massoulier.

So there's another little boy

in this town who refused to grow up!

I must see Mr. Santelli!

Excuse me for interrupting...

but I've got some information.

Busybody!

Let her talk.

All leads are useful at that point.

A detective agency

in Nice was hired

to investigate on

Marie-Christine's past.

It was a phone request

by an unknown client.

Yes, it's in the file.

Well, I decided to call

the Nice agency...

and I learned that the client...

sent them a picture

of Marie-Christine

in a typed envelope.

Do you have the envelope?

If I get it,

can you identify it?

In 3 days, I can trace

any typewriter owner.

Wait...

The detective has just left home.

By now,

he should be in the office

searching for the envelope.

As soon as he does,

he'll call us here.

I gave him your phone number.

Thank you for your cooperation.

You may go now.

May I read

my client's statement?

Certainly.

It's short and sweet:

"I didn't kill Massoulier,

nor my wife.

"I didn't kill Louison,

or the Eden cashier."

It's not much help.

Santelli speaking.

I don't know. I'm busy.

I'm tied up here

for at least an hour.

It's very simple, honey.

Use the potatoes while they're hot.

You may burn your fingers,

but never mind.

I get it, darling.

Then, you pour the white wine

on the potatoes,

but slice them thin. Got it?

Yes, but hurry because

the kids have to go to school.

The table's set and we're waiting.

Cut it out...

I need the line

for an important call.

Bye, darling.

It was my old lady.

What are you doing?

Your conversation made me hungry.

I'll just hop out for a sandwich.

They can send someone for it.

I prefer to take a walk.

Come with me.

- Don't lose him.

- OK.

Is Lablache still on the line?

He's on hold.

It looks as if my lawyer will be

needing a good lawyer.

Hold on, Mr. Lablache,

Mr. Santelli wants to talk to you.

Lablache? Santelli speaking.

I'm still here.

It's working as planned.

He just left. He's about to call you.

Tell me what I should say.

Just keep him talking

till he hangs himself.

I'll hang up.

Fine. We'll both hang up!

Come down, Miss-know-it-all!

She did well in the role of my wife.

We had to needle the lawyer.

Did you see him

with those cigarettes?

I planned to nail him...

while he was helping me run away.

- He could've killed you.

- It's true.

When did you suspect him?

I never trusted him

since he handled my divorce.

I had to slap him down.

What for?

To make him

remove his hand from my bra.

A groping hand doesn't

always mean a killer...

Or else,

Jambrau'd be in jail for life.

OK,

but while I was waiting

in his office...

I noticed something suspicious.

I leaned against the wall.

It led to Marie-Christine's

former beauty salon.

A fantastic gimmick

to have a secret affair

in a small town.

I also noticed a card

from the Lablache agency

and a picture of Marie-Christine

in Clement's arms.

It all added up.

He's just gone

into to phone booth!

Lablache speaking.

Last week,

I requested a little inquest.

I mailed you a picture

in an envelope.

I see.

I just got to the office.

I don't know if it's still here.

I'm pretty sure

it's been destroyed.

Mr. Lablache,

are you a gambler?

When the odds are good.

I'll bet a handsome amount

you won't find that envelope.

What do you mean

by handsome amount?

But destroying evidence...

Who says it's evidence?

You simply won't find...

an envelope that was discarded

in a wastebasket 3 days ago.

I'm willing to bet 30,000 Frs.

It's my final price.

Forget all I said.

You were putting me on.

The die is cast!

Give the envelope to the cops...

but keep Marie-Christine's picture.

I killed her

because she no longer loved me,

Massoulier

because she asked me to.

I killed Paula

because she guessed the truth

and Louison

because he was blackmailing me.

I was about to kill Vercel.

I don't belong

to the brotherhood of men.

Everything

I've done was for women.

I like to look at them

and to touch them.

I enjoy giving them pleasure.

Women are magic,

so I became a magician.

In one minute,

there'll be another corpse here.

I see them approaching.

Sorry to let you down,

you've just lost 30,000 Frs.

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