The Hands of Orlac Page #4

---

Thank you Mrs.

I'm feeling better now.

It's very painful

to be a widow, you know.

Do you believe in the hereafter?

- Sorry?

- The hereafter

Survival of the souls.

Since the death of my poor husband

I'm taking part in spiritism seances.

And my husband spoke to me, Mrs.

- He even gave me a message

for Mr Orlac. -A message?

Yes Mrs. My husband said to me:

"Go and see Mr Orlac and tell him

to not trust what belongs to me. "

My husband would possess

something that belongs to yours?

It's what I deduced from his words.

You will give him

the message, won't you?

- Of course but...

- Thank you Mrs.

A moment. You

didn't tell me your name.

Unfortunately it's not

an easy name to bear.

My husband's name was

Vasseur, Louis Vasseur.

Good bye Mrs.

You never met before then? Stephen

Orlac. Graham Coates, the sculptor.

Mr Coates.

I'm very pleased to meet you Mr Orlac.

Unfortunately I missed your recital.

I think I just put my foot in it.

That's the least you can say.

I was in Edinburgh.

I came back this morning by plane.

You didn't miss much.

My recital was a gigantic flop.

Let's call it a recital

without a piano player.

I'm sorry. Anyway.

Here what I wanted to ask you.

Your hands.

My hands?

Yes.

I won't ask you to model

for me. You can relax.

I would just like to take

pictures of your hands.

And make molds from them.

- I don't understand very well...

- I'm working on a big project.

Jesus resurrecting Lazarus.

And the central motif of the

statue are the hands.

The hands of Lazarus

getting out of the tomb.

He's stretching his

hands towards Christus.

Like this.

Jesus takes Lazarus hands

like that.

Rise Lazarus!

In the background Thomas.

Thomas unbelieving and the holy women.

Lazarus is not seen, only his hands.

His hands.

You must understand me Mr Orlac.

I'd like to put in these hands all the things

that can be put in the hands of a ressurected man.

All the things that are in your

hands Mr Orlac!

No! No! No! Go to hell!

- What are you doing here?

- I'm sorry.

But Louise asked me to wait for you.

- Where is she?

- Cigarette?

No thanks.

So, Louise?.

What do you think of my cigarette case?

Gift from a patient.

I'm spoiled, don't you think?

My turn to be spoiled. Tell me what

kind of service Louise asked from you?

You don't have to worry about anything.

- She's not ill at least?

- Ill would not be exact.

Only exhausted.

Her nerves have particularly

been put to the test lately.

- You're hiding something from me.

- On the contrary.

To be very honest with you I've decided

that she would have a complete check-up.

She will stay during 24 hours

at the Marlboro clinic

to be definitively relieved

of the usual paper work.

It's unbelievable!

You could have warned me.

But you were not at your home.

You were absent all day long.

Which, to say the least,

didn't improve in any

way Louise's nervosity.

You're right.

- When will she be back?

- Tomorrow.

As soon as all these boring but

necessary formalities will be over.

- And if I went to see her?

- Absolutely not.

I want her to stay completely

relaxed during the tests.

Louise is still my wife.

Yes but she's also my goddaughter.

Take a cigarette please.

- Thank you but I almost

stopped smoking. -You're wrong.

As a Doctor I'm against nicotine

but it must be said that in certain

cases it's a good sedative.

Listen Doctor!

You're Louise's uncle and also

her godfather, it's understood,

but it doesn't give you the right

to dispose of our lives as you please.

You send my wife to the hospital.

You prescribe sedatives to me.

Tell me how much I owe you for the

consultation and let's say good bye.

- I find you rather agressive, my dear.

- From which side comes the agression?

Do you want to carry

the case to the U.N.O.?

Disunited families will be

more appropriate.

I regret the path our

conversation has taken.

- I'm leaving.

- I'm not holding you.

Silly me.

I forgot my case on the table.

Thank you.

- Good bye.

- Good bye.

Hello? Marlboro Clinic?

Is Mrs Orlac one of your patient?

Mrs Louise Orlac.

She's not in your clinic?

I see.

Thank you.

Please. I absolutely

must see Dr Volcek.

Alas, dear lady...

Look.

I am Louis Vasseur!

Give my hands back!

Volcek is a real genius.

Volcek gave you my hands

but he gave me my head!

Admit that I frightened you Mr Orlac.

Neron.

Now I understand everything.

What are you doing in my home?

Get out!

Not so fast dear Mr Orlac.

I'm visting you out of charity.

I simply wanted to warn you.

Do you know that the sweet Mrs Orlac and her

kind godfather want to put you in the asylum?

I told you to get out.

Go before I kill you.

You already murdered Beethoven.

It's enough.

What do you want from me?

Money?

A blackmailer, that's

what you are, right?

A music teacher would have been

more useful to you

but don't worry your wife and her

godfather sure know their tune.

You will end up in

the asylum poor Stephen.

Meanwhile I give you your keys.

And I leave you with your

strangler's hands.

Good night maestro.

- So, did you miss me?

- Where were you?

- My godfather didn't tell you?

- Sure.

I hope you're in perfect health

after this medical check-up.

Stephen!

Yes, Stephen.

The same man who autographed this

picture for you a long time ago.

- Why did you tear it up? -Who did this?

It's not me. It's a crazy story.

Yes.

A crazy story.

And I'm the crazy one.

My hands disgust you, don't they?

How can you imagine such a thing?

It's not you?

- So it can only be Neron.

- Neron?

No, I'm not mad.

That guy's name is really Neron.

I met him in Marseilles.

Now he's here in London.

I'm fed up by these

rehearsals every afternoon.

Be patient darling.

Soon we'll be rich.

- Thanks to these hands.

- Or in jail.

If you think I like that, posing

as a widow, stealing the keys.

Instead of Mrs Orlac you would have prefer

to visit her husband, I know. Ah, these hands!

Orlac's hands.

You'd like to feel them on

your skin. And mine?

You push them back.

Orlac will pay for that. In cash.

- His and his wife's fortune, I'll have both.

- Anyway I'm fed up. I don't need you anymore.

I can earn my life alone.

Earn your life?

With a nice scar in the

middle of your little mug?

Now you're warned.

I need Orlac's millions.

To be able to say bugger off

to Felix and people like him.

Felix speaking.

- Bugger...

- Neron. On stage at once.

Yes Mr Felix.

At your orders Mr Felix.

We rarely see you in our

offices Doctor.

Fortunately. Scotland Yard

is like Heaven.

Everybody talks about it but

nobody rushes off to pay a visit.

What crime did you commit?

Be reassured. I only

kill my patients.

This case is mine

but I'd like for your experts to take

an impression of the fingerprints on it.

- Yours, Doctor?

- No.

And I'd prefer if you kept

them anonymous for now.

My dear friend, how are your

relationships with the french police?

Very good.

Meaning that our cordial

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes