Trail of the Pink Panther Page #3

to your blood pressure.

I see. He's such a maniac,

such an idiot, such a fool.

And such a lucky fool.

He would fall backwards

down a manhole

and wind up

in the arms of Brooke Shields.

Now London half in ruins

and Lugash, a helpless desert

country, about to be devastated.

- Get hold of yourself.

- I'm trying.

You don't want to end up

at Happy Acres again.

No, but until Clouseau is

out of my hair,

out of my life forever,

I'm doomed.

I'll never smile again.

Frank Sinatra with the Pied Pipers

and Tommy Dorsey.

I'm falling apart

and you go down memory lane

with your silly jazz.

They know not to interrupt me

when I am with a patient

unless it is an emergency.

- Hello?

- Emergency call for the inspector.

It would seem the emergency

is not mine but yours.

- I have terrible news for you.

- What?

Inspector Clouseau's plane

is missing.

- You are sure?

- Positive. I am sorry.

I'll be right there.

Thank you.

Dr. Longet, good-bye.

You see before you

a man reborn, cured, sane,

sound as a Swiss franc.

- The phone call was good news?

- Wonderful news.

Clouseau's plane is overdue

and presumed lost into the sea

and out of my life forever.

I'm going to wash that man

right out of my hair.

I know...

Mary Martin, South Pacific.

I'm going to wash that man

right outta my hair

I'm going to wash that man

right outta my hair

She's here.

Come in.

I think this is a mistake.

Tell her I'm out of town on a case.

- Do you think that's wise?

- You think talking to her is wise?

You were

his immediate superior.

"Were."

You really think he's past tense?

- It certainly seems possible.

- It would be wonderful.

Sooner or later, a persistent reporter

like Marie Jouvet...

What can I say?

What can I tell her?

That I thought him an imbecile?

That I thought he was

the luckiest man in the world

with the brain

of a retarded clam?

- Of course not.

- Of course not.

You and I know he was an idiot,

but to the rest of the world,

he was the greatest detective

since Sherlock Holmes.

- If I tell the truth...

- Then don't.

He's gone.

Give them the hero they want.

It's no skin off your nose.

But is he gone?

Is he really?

I've got this ghastly feeling

that next week or tomorrow,

I'll open the trunk of my car

or my closet, and... "Peekaboo!"

Even so, I don't think

you have a choice.

What if I don't bring it off?

Where Clouseau is concerned,

my emotions lurk below the surface

like a floating mine.

- Oh, God, I can't do it.

- You can do it.

I can do it?

Yes, I can do it.

No, you do it.

Miss Jouvet.

Miss Jouvet,

how nice of you to come.

Please make yourself comfortable.

Pull up a clam.

How would you describe

Inspector Clouseau?

I've never known

a man like him.

He was... unique.

Could you be more specific?

I could be, but...

To start with,

he was... unorthodox.

- In what way?

- In every way.

- Can you give me an example?

- An example.

Yes. For instance,

to keep himself constantly alert

to any attack,

he instructed his Chinese

manservant to attack him

wherever and whenever

he could.

That's not only unorthodox,

it's bizarre.

- He sounds like a real nut.

- Shut up.

There were rumors

that you and he didn't get along.

I suppose we occasionally had

our... little disagreements,

but when you work

with somebody for 20 years,

you can't always be expected

to see...

...to see eye to eye.

Then you think

he was a good detective?

He was...

I think he was...

You can't just say

he was a...

There are no words

to describe what he really was.

How about "genius"?

That is a word.

- Courageous?

- Courageous?

The president

twice decorated him for bravery.

Right.

That sounds

like a courageous man to me.

Yes, it certainly sounds

that way, hmm?

He was reputed

to be a great athlete.

You have no idea

what an athlete he was.

A karate black belt.

- A black belt?

- An expert marksman.

A born leader.

Inspector, I'm so sorry.

Oh, he's crying.

This is Bruno.

I want a meeting right away.

- Who with?

- Everybody.

Okay, boss.

It was part of your job

to attack him like that?

Oh, yes.

Cato, I'm back on the case!

Now to set the trap,

catch the killer...

...and prove to the world

that Maria Gambrelli is innocent...

of murder.

We'll have to accelerate

our training program.

You must learn to attack wherever

and whenever I least expect.

You must give no quarter.

- Didn't anyone ever get hurt?

- Yes, mostly me.

There was one time, however,

when the Mafia imported a ninja.

The inspector

thought the ninja was me.

Poor ninja.

I know just how he felt.

Now with your boss gone,

no more sneak attacks.

You must be very relieved.

Not entirely.

Sometimes when you do something

long enough, you miss it,

even if it was painful.

What do you think happened

to the inspector?

Beats me.

- Inspector Clouseau's residence.

- Marie Jouvet, please.

One moment, please.

It's for you.

This is Sergeant Duval speaking.

I have that information for you.

Clouseau's former assistant

Hercule Lajoy

is living on a river barge

called The Moth.

- Hercule Lajoy?

- Who wants to know?

Marie Jouvet.

I'm a television reporter.

I know what you are.

Can I come aboard?

I want to talk to you.

- You want answers?

- Of course.

How can I give you answers?

I am taking a nap.

I'll wait until you wake up.

All right.

You're even better looking

than you are on television.

- Thank you.

- Thank you.

I have the distinct impression

that I was expected.

Clouseau has disappeared.

You are a reporter.

- Elementary.

- Spoken like a true policeman.

A retired policeman.

- May I sit?

- As you choose.

You worked with Clouseau.

Yes, he was unique.

Intuitive, a man

who followed his hunches?

Who can tell

what Clouseau followed?

He was the most successful

man on the force.

Everything I thought

made up a proper investigation...

he did the opposite.

Facts, Hercule.

Facts.

Nothing matters

but the facts.

Without them, the science

of criminal investigation

is nothing more

than a guessing game.

Listen to me

and you will learn something.

The facts in this case are...

the body of the chauffeur was found

in the bedroom of the second maid.

Fact!

Cause of death...

four bullets in the chest.

Fact!

The bullets were fired

at close range

from a.25 caliber

Beretta automatic.

Fact!

Maria Gambrelli was discovered

with the murder weapon in her hand.

The murder weapon was registered

in the name of the deceased...

Miguel Ostos...

and was kept, mark you,

in the glove compartment

of the Ballon Rolls-Royce.

Members of the household staff

have testified

that Miguel Ostos beat...

Careful, you fool.

You've broken my pointing stick.

I've got nothing to point with now.

...have testified that Miguel Ostos

beat Maria Gambrelli frequently.

Finally comes the sworn statement

of Monsieur and Madame Ballon,

as well as all the members

of the staff,

each of them with perfect alibis.

Now then, Hercule,

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