The Mask of Dimitrios Page #9

Synopsis: A mystery writer named Leyden is intrigued by the tale of notorious criminal Dimitrios Makropolous, whose body was found washed up on the shore in Istanbul. He decides to follow the career of Dimitrios around Europe, to learn more about the man. Along the way, he is joined by mysterious Mr. Peters, who has his own motivation.
Director(s): Jean Negulesco
Production: Warner Bros. Pictures
 
IMDB:
7.2
APPROVED
Year:
1944
95 min
197 Views


it is no trick,

clumsy or otherwise.

You see, i'm quite

prepared in assisting blackmailing a person

if that person is dimitrios,

but i'm not prepared

to share in the profits.

So much the better

for you, isn't it?

Mr. Leyden,

you are kind.

There's not enough

kindness in the world.

Not that again!

Not that

"kindness in the world"!

It's coming

out of my ears.

But you are kind.

I prepared a letter

for dimitrios,

asking him

to meet with us.

"Dear sir,

the undersigned has just learned

that he is an old

acquaintance of yours dating back to 1929..."

"and would appreciate

having a little chat with you."

"I'm sure that you

will find the talk immensely interesting."

"Kindly come to

the ledru hotel, avenue ledru,

"tomorrow evening

at 8:
00.

"Looking forward

to seeing you.

I remain your old

friend and associate, eric peterson."

P.s.

Oh, yes.

"I have just learned

of the passing

"of our mutual friend,

constantine gullus.

Regrettable."

Do you think he'll come?

Most certainly.

How much?

I have it.

All right.

My name is

mr. Peterson.

I made reservation

by telephone.

Oh, yes. It will be

15 francs for one, 20 for two.

This gentlemen is

not staying with me.

15 francs.

Thank you.

Up the stairs,

down the hall, to your right.

I don't like this,

mr. Peters,

i don't like it.

What's to

prevent dimitrios

from coming up

here and shooting us both?

Please, do not let

your imagination run away with you.

Dimitrios would

not do that.

It would be too noisy

and dangerous for him.

Besides,

that is not his way.

Leyden:
It isn't?

Well, what is his way?

He's a very

cautious man.

He thinks carefully

before he acts.

Well, he got

the letter this morning.

He had all day

to think carefully.

I had weeks.

I tell you

i know dimitrios.

I know how

his mind works.

I am asking

a million francs,

that is not

an exorbitant amount for dimitrios.

He will pay.

I will take

the money

and go instantly

to the indies,

where dimitrios

will never find me.

That's fine for you.

What about me?

I don't feel like

instantly going to the indies.

You have glasses?

Put them on.

Put on

your hat, too.

Oh, i see. Yes.

Turn up the collar

of your coat.

Yeah, that's

a good idea.

Sit in that corner

where it will not be too light.

Yeah, that's better.

Good. That'll do it.

My good friend,

how are you?

How are you?

That is mr. Smith.

Mr. Smith.

He knew gullus?

That is what

we wanted to talk to you about, dimitrios.

Then talk. I've

an appointment to keep.

You haven't changed

at all, dimitrios, always impetuous,

always a little unkind.

After all these years,

no word of greeting,

no word of regret

for all the unhappiness you've caused me.

I have an appointment

to keep.

Since you want to make this

a purely business matter,

we want money.

What do you have to

give me in exchange?

Silence, dimitrios,

very valuable.

How valuable?

One million francs.

What do you think

you know that's worth one million francs?

So difficult to know

where to begin.

There are so many things

the police would like to know.

For instance,

the identity of the man

who tipped them off in 1931

to the smuggling ring.

I'm sure they'd be

interested to know that it is the same man

who today is a director of

the eurasian credit trust.

You haven't told

me anything yet

that's worth

one million francs.

It's childish.

You were always

inclined to despise

my simple approach

to the problems of this life,

but our silence

on the matter

would be worth something,

would it not?

Not one million francs.

There's yugoslavia.

Police of that country

would be glad to know

the whereabouts

of dimitrios talat.

So grodek's

been talking.

Any more?

Then let us go to smyrna.

In 1922, a moneylender

named conrad-

the murderer of

conrad was hanged.

Can that be true?

Perhaps mr. Smith has

something to add to that.

Abdul dhris was hanged,

but he made a confession

implicating a man named dimitrios makropoulos.

Mr. Smith saw

the body of gullus

and had no difficulty

in identifying it with a photograph of gullus.

Do you really think

a million is exorbitant?

I'm wondering why

you ask so little.

I do not like

to be greedy.

I like to be fair...

always.

You'll have it ready

in" mille notes tomorrow.

If the instructions are

not followed out exactly,

you'll not be given

a second chance.

Do you understand?

Mr. Smith?

Yes?

How is this man whom you

took to be gullus dressed when he was found?

Oh, in a cheap

blue suit,

and inside

the coat there was an identification card.

And how was

he killed?

He was stabbed in

the side and thrown into the water.

Peters:

Are you satisfied, dimitrios?

What did you

think of him?

It's dimitrios,

all right.

Ruthless and primitive.

I was frightened.

Dimitrios has that

effect on people.

You frighten me.

I always knew

you hated dimitrios,

but i didn't know

you hated him so much.

Not until i saw him

in this room.

Then i knew i hated

him enough to kill him.

I knew it!

What?

Listen, the trains.

I spent an hour

in here this morning listening to them.

The ballard rail.

Be ready.

Come.

One million francs.

Did you ever see

so much money at one time before?

One million-

beautiful thing, oh!

Leyden:
Is there

a match somewhere?

Dimitrios:

Little surprised, peterson?

I'm glad your friend

smith is here, too.

It saves me the trouble

of persuading you to give me his name and address.

Peterson was always

too ingenious,

and ingenuity is

never a substitute for intelligence.

He was my friend.

No, he wasn't

my friend,

but he was

a nice man.

Compared to you

he was-

you rotten,

insane brute!

Leyden:
You think

you can go on murdering people like that?!

You murderer, you!

You get up!

Leyden:
Let me go, you!

So help me!

Aah!

Peters:
Not him!

Leave him alone!

Peters:
Go, leyden.

Go.

You go!

But i better-

something has to be done.

I'll call the police

or something.

Dimitrios:
Wait! Wait!

Don't go!

Don't go!

Come back!

Or do you want this carrion

to kill me?

Come back!

I am very happy

it is you!

Are you all right?

Put that money away!

That's all

you ever wanted, isn't it?

I don't want it now.

I don't want it somehow.

I've done what

i had to do.

But-but what's

going to happen?

Something's going

to happen.

You'll be glad to know

i killed

dimitrios makropoulos.

You wanted to

write a book.

Write it.

Send me a copy.

I'll have a lot

of time to read it where i'm going.

Good-bye, mr. Peters.

Au revoir.

Sorry you won't be able

to go to the indies now.

You see, there's

not enough kindness in the world.

Captioning performed by

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Frank Gruber

Frank Gruber (born February 2, 1904, Elmer, Minnesota, died December 9, 1969, Santa Monica, California) was an American writer. He was an author of stories for pulp fiction magazines. He also wrote dozens of novels, mostly Westerns and detective stories. Gruber wrote many scripts for Hollywood movies and television shows, and was the creator of three TV series. He sometimes wrote under the pen names Stephen Acre, Charles K. Boston and John K. Vedder. Gruber said that as a 9-year-old newsboy, he read his first book, "Luke Walton, the Chicago Newsboy" by Horatio Alger. During the next seven years he read a hundred more Alger books and said they influenced him professionally more than anything else in his life. They told how poor boys became rich, but what they instilled in Gruber was an ambition at age nine or 10, to be an author. He had written his first book before age 11, using a pencil on wrapping paper. Age 13 or 14, his ambition died for a while but several years later it rose again and he started submitting stories to various magazines, like Smart Set and Atlantic Monthly. Getting rejected, he lowered his sights to The Saturday Evening Post and Colliers, with no more success. The pulps were getting noticed and Gruber tried those but with no success. As a story came back with a rejection slip, he would post it off again to someone else, so he could have as many as forty stories going back and forth at different times, costing him about a third of his earnings in postage. Erle Stanley Gardner called him the fighter who licked his weight in rejection slips. February 1927, he finally sold a story. It was bought by The United Brethren Publishing House of Dayton. It was called "The Two Dollar Raise" and he got a cheque through for three dollars and fifty cents. Answering an ad in the Chicago Tribune, he got a job editing a small farm paper. In September he got a better paid job in Iowa and soon found himself editing five farm papers. He had lots of money and even wrote some articles for the papers but found he had no time to write the stories he wanted to write. In 1932 the Depression hit, and he lost his job. 1932 to 1934 were his bad years. He wrote and wrote, many stories typed out on an old "Remington" but of the Sunday School stories, the spicy sex stories, the detective stories, the sports stories, the love stories, very few sold, with some companies paying him as little as a quarter of a cent per word. He had a few successes and remained in Mt. Morris, Illinois for 14 months before deciding to head to New York on July 1, 1934. There were numerous publishing houses in New York and he could save money on postage but this led to him walking miles to deliver manuscripts as he had so little money, not even enough for food most of the time. He stayed in a room in the Forty Fourth Street Hotel ($10.50 per week). In his book, The Pulp Jungle (1967), Gruber details the struggles (for a long time, at least once a day he had tomato soup, which was free hot water in a bowl, with free crackers crumbled in and half a bottle of tomato sauce added) he had for a few years and numerous fellow authors he became friendly with, many of whom were famous or later became famous. Early December 1934 and with endless rejection slips, he got a phone call from Rogers Terrill. Could he do a 5,500 word filler story for Operator #5 pulp magazine by next day? He did and got paid. Even better, they wanted another one next month, and another. He was then asked to do a filler for Ace Sports pulp, which sold. Gruber's income from writing in 1934 was under $400. In 1935, his stories were suddenly wanted and he earned $10,000 that year. His wife came to live with him (she had been living with relatives) and he lived the good life, moving into a big apartment and buying a Buick ($750). January 1942, Gruber decided to try Hollywood, having heard about the huge sums some stories sold for and stayed there till 1946. Gruber—who stated that only seven types of Westerns existed—wrote more than 300 stories for over 40 pulp magazines, as well as more than sixty novels, which had sold more than ninety million copies in 24 countries, sixty five screenplays, and a hundred television scripts. Twenty five of his books have sold to motion pictures, and he created three TV series: Tales of Wells Fargo, The Texan and Shotgun Slade. His first novel, The Peace Marshall, which was rejected by every agent in New York at the time, became a film called "The Kansan", starting Richard Dix. The book has been reprinted many times with total sales of over one million copies. He bragged that he could write a complete mystery novel in 16 days and then use the other 14 days of the month to knock out a historical serial for a magazine. His mystery novels included The French Key (for which he sold the motion picture rights for $14,000 in 1945) and The Laughing Fox. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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