Despair Page #6

your husband's clothes.

He had papers belonging to your husband.

This is your husband's passport, isn't it?

Of course.

But the victim is not in fact...

this man in the photograph.

For heaven's sake! Who looks

like his passport photograph?

It must be Hermann.

What are you talking about?

There is no resemblance.

He is a different man.

No resemblance?

Not much.

Tell me. Is your husband ill at all?

Ill?

He's dead...

He is dead!

He's dead!

I'm expecting a message.

Is there one?

I'm so sorry, Mr. Weber.

No message has arrived yet.

Jean?

How about lunch instead of the message?

We had a good fish today.

I'm glad you've read your Schiller.

These people... are my family.

- You must understand.

- Right.

My... husband... made it possible...

for my dreams...

to come true?

I knew he...

he was going to die...

when we married.

Just so.

How tragic!

Poor stuff!

Some more.

And two lumps.

What do you think, Mr. Weber? Hmm?

The murder mystery.

Oh, I'm afraid I gave up

reading those a long, long time ago.

Over the years...

Conan Doyle, Dostoevsky,

Edgar Wallace. So childish!

All that worrying about clues and alibis,

Polishing the brasses.

Pocketing the wine glass.

The so-called perfect murder!

Oh, dear me! No, no, no, no, no...

Poor stuff!

Well, uh... What would be

the perfect murder, then?

The perfect murder, Herr Doctor?

Yeah, the perfect murder.

The perfect murder...

Well...

the perfect murder would be the one...

which had never happened,

but which was committed.

The murder which deceives itself.

Deceives itself.

Yeah... of course, it's beyond attainment.

No, no, no. The perfect murder

would be the one in which...

the victim did it!

Yeah.

You see?

I happen to be something

of the philosopher.

- Which author were you discussing?

- Not an author.

This case in the paper.

Your part of the world.

Hmm?

Odd case.

The monster insured his life

and then took another's.

Took another's?

Surely, you mean

the victim's life was insured.

No! The murderer's.

It doesn't make sense. He dressed up

someone in his suit and then shot him.

How did they know?

- How did they know?

- Know?

Yes! That the victim was not

the man he was dressed up to be?

For, presumably, there must have been

some kind of a... a resemblance?

It doesn't mention one.

Well... look for yourself.

He must be off his head.

- Anything new?

- No.

No news. Not yet.

If we knew... who the dead man was...

I think we would find

your husband quickly enough.

I told you. It was his brother.

Your husband had no brother.

Or was he in the habit of lying to you?

How would I know?

Did this stick...

belong to your husband?

Ah... they've found a clue.

A clue! Fantastic.

They already know the murderer.

But they won't find him.

They don't know who the victim is.

Don't you see that?

That's a clue to the victim's identity.

Rubbish! Rubbish!

It's lies. All's lies!

Lies!

Look here...

you stop doing this.

Do you understand?

Please...

I came here for the peace and quiet.

For my nerves.

And this obsession...

with murder...

I can't stay here.

You will find it very quiet here.

Good.

Just what I wanted.

Your passport?

What instrument do you play?

Instrument?

Oh, yeah...

Cello.

Cello. I'm a cellist.

I suppose you have all the

...newspapers here?

- Of course!

- All bluff! All lies!

Bluff.

Lies.

Hello?

- Sir?

- Have you a free room?

- Yes.

- Perfect... perfect!

A remote abode of work and pure delight.

- I'm a musician.

- Oh.

Last year, we had actors.

A film company was here.

Even my little bird was killed.

His name was Heliogabal.

Sad. So Sad.

My key?

We all had parts. The whole village.

We all were villagers.

- Here's your key.

- Thank you.

No, no, no. You have to go out there:

around the corner and up the stairs.

Your room is the first on the left.

The first on the left.

But...

Yes, it's him.

- Come.

- Hermann Hermann?

Yes.

No.

How childish...

Poor people.

We are making a film here.

In a minute...

I will be coming out.

But you must keep the

...policemen back...

so that I can get away.

I am a film actor.

I'm coming out.

Don't... look... at the camera.

I'm coming out.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes