The Thief of Paris Page #6

- I'll take you to the station, sir.

- With pleasure, thank you.

Jean-Francois!

Randal, Randal, stop!

He's one of us, Randal.

He's a policeman. Stop it.

I've been robbed! Help, help!

I've been robbed!

They've stolen my money!

They've taken my money!

Help! Someone has taken my money!

Catch the thief!

In the year following Canonnier's death,

the incidents of terrorism multiplied.

Bombs were thrown all over the place,

even at the House of Parliament.

A certain number of our friends

had joined the anarchist cause.

Many of them were arrested.

The police were on our trail.

People barricaded themselves

in their houses,

making the exercise

of our profession difficult.

Broussaille got married.

She left London, leaving her house to me.

I didn't work as much.

My heart was no longer in it.

We stayed away from France.

Who's that on the porch?

I'll go check.

Charlotte!

Thank you, Madame.

What's all that for?

Looks like a suit of armor.

My emergency tools,

some bits, a small pocket drill...

You look like a surgeon.

So burglary is a profession?

Yes. And a very difficult one.

And what's all this?

You have tattoos on your arm now?

It's a specialty of Antoine's.

Here, watch the balloon move.

It's awful. Will you keep it forever?

I'm afraid to.

The only way to get a tattoo off

is with injections of mother's milk.

- You're teasing me.

- Not at all.

You lost weight.

You have wrinkles there.

How did I ever get along with you?

I ask myself that.

I must say you didn't take

much of an effort to find me.

I thought you wanted no part of me.

I asked you once to follow me.

Do you think I enjoyed it,

alone in that old house with Father

who wouldn't speak to me?

All my friends getting married.

It was dreadful.

I stayed home alone

like a hermit in a cave.

- It's your fault.

- It was not.

- Yes, it was.

- Wasrt.

- Was too.

- No.

You were very hard to find, you know.

I was a whole week alone in London.

Your old maid wouldn't let me in.

She was stubborn.

- How did you get my address?

- From Father La Margelle.

He's a strange man, don't you think?

La Margelle?

Why are you laughing? Is he a thief too?

You're teasing me.

Do you still want me?

Do you want me to stay?

May I go get my suitcase?

I don't know whether

your father has changed,

but you, you will always be the same.

Tell me, didn't your father feed you?

- You know how he is.

- I do.

Uncle Urbain and his famous harem.

He's had a houseful at once, in all colors.

But

at first it was amusing.

I observed them. I even took notes.

What about him? He was amused too?

He'd change every week,

it seemed endless.

But suddenly, he grew old,

nasty and vicious.

One morning, Genevive arrived,

showed up just like that.

You knew her, didn't you?

Yes.

She's different from the others.

Genevive's quite a woman.

She just settled in,

changed all the furniture around.

She wanted a bathroom and diamonds.

Papa got it all for her.

She tried giving me presents

to win me to her side.

She talked about you.

- What did she say?

- Nonsense.

She was always asking me questions.

One day, I slapped her face.

I shouldn't have done it.

Anyway, I had one thing in mind then.

To find you.

Hello.

Good-bye, Georges.

Charlotte moved into the London flat,

and I went on my way.

Thieves! Thieves!

I'm exhausted.

They'll drive me crazy with their alarms.

A self-exploding lock!

- Steady, Roger! Don't get nervous!

- I can't go on.

I'm losing my nerve.

It's getting too risky.

I quit. It's over for me.

- You're just saying that.

- On my mother's honor!

Broussaille is gone. I have no one but me.

I'll buy a house in Venice,

and open a little store there.

I'll make exploding locks for a living.

Roger!

Did you kill him?

No, he's still breathing.

That night we barely got out of it.

When summer came,

Roger retired, as he said he would.

I traveled with Charlotte.

Six, black.

Place your bets.

The betting is closed.

Five.

Those two brought good luck

for the first time.

Place your bets. Place your bets.

Place your bets!

The betting is closed.

A few weeks later,

a telegram called us back to Paris.

Mademoiselle Charlotte,

Monsieur Georges.

Well?

Monsieur is dying.

He can't speak anymore.

- Where is he?

- In the study. We can't move him.

- What did the doctor say?

- He won't live through the night.

Did it happen suddenly?

Suddenly.

He had a stroke two days ago.

Leave us alone, please.

Marie-Jeanne, will you accompany

Madame to her room?

Georges and I will watch over him.

How strange.

I've been afraid of him all my life.

Afraid of seeing him again!

Now, I don't feel anything.

Almost nothing.

For me, he's already dead.

You know he can hear us.

I simply don't care.

I think he has cut us both out of his will.

Probably.

I'd better take a look at his will.

Where could it be?

At the lawyer's?

He must have kept a copy here.

You know how he is.

Here.

I'm sure this is it.

Yes, it's his will.

6,200 shares, three percent,

the house in Ville d'Avray.

I was right.

He heft it all to the Pasteur Institute.

Go get some rest. I'll make up a new one.

You think it's possible?

I've done this before.

I'm an expert. Don't worry.

I'll write out the death notices.

Would you like a cup of coffee?

No, not now, later. Thanks.

Don't let me disturb you.

My Lord! The devil is hauling

your uncle off by his feet.

Let him finish his task.

Tell me, is this a hidden talent?

It's very good.

I ran into Madame Delpich coming in,

as well endowed as ever.

Are you leaving anything to her?

No. My uncle didn't deem her won'thy

of his mentioning.

- I'll respect his last wishes.

- I shouldn't worry about her.

I know a respectable old Austrian

who is ready to take her in.

It takes but a word.

How are your churches, Father?

We are still laying down the foundations.

It's long and arduous.

My uncle won't forget your good works.

May the Lord bless him for it.

You keep talking of the churches

you are building.

Those donations...

How is that money spent?

If I told you, you wouldn't believe me.

Have you thought about everything?

The date?

Everything.

Are you giving your uncle

a first-class funeral?

My uncle asked to be buried

in a pauper's coffin.

A saintly example of humility.

- This will edify the parish.

- Parish?

Don't be silly. A quiet civil burial.

A civil burial?

I wouldn't have thought of that.

You show no mercy, do you?

I fear that was the last gasp.

Yes, it's over.

All over.

But even so, death is no excuse.

We must inform the servants.

Just a second. I'm finishing.

Yes?

May we talk, Father?

I have something to tell you.

Do you indeed, Madame?

Very well, let us speak.

You were once married, I believe.

True, I was once married.

But I weakened and fell,

or rather someone made me fall.

That Georges Randal to you

is a man of won'th and honesty.

To me he's just a thief.

What are you saying?

A thief?

And of the worst kind!

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