05x19 - To k*ll a Saint

[bunniefuu]

'Paris is famous, amongst many
things, for its book stalls,

patronised by practically everybody.

Some of them pretty obvious.

What about him?

Obviously a Sorbonne professor
pursuing a valuable first edition.

Hello, he's found it.

Hmm?

Oh.

Some people for you.

Now, of course, over here

Sergeant Le Duc,

of the Paris police

is as obvious as a second head.

He is supposed to be following me
without my knowledge.

So that he can arrest me
the instant I do anything wrong.'

You're trembling, Le Duc.
Never!

You're as upset as a mother kangaroo
who's just had her pouch raided.

I am not even mildly surprised.

There must be over people in
Paris

who would like to k*ll the famous
Simon Templar.

And how do I get out, monsieur, tell
me that?

Why, I'm terribly sorry,
mademoiselle,

but you didn't by any chance
see who was driving this car?

As a matter of fact I did.

It was Paul Verrier the owner.

Now will you move your car, please?

Patience is a virtue.
Did you hear that? Paul Verrier.

Yes, I heard.

This is police business.

I said this is police business!

Yes, I heard that.

Please, monsieur, will you move your
car? I have a date.

Oh, he'll wait. I would.
Put that down!

Oh, for pity's sake, monsieur, I'm
very late. I have an engagement.

Le Duc, my boy, you're quite right.

This is your case.

My apologies for the inconvenience,
mademoiselle.

Right. Monsieur Verrier.

Justine, please!

Let us talk this over privately.

Oh. When do we have time to talk?

And where could we possibly go
to talk privately?

I-I will see you at the club, Paul.

Oh, don't leave, Andre. If it was
not you, it would be someone else.

Philippe, Charles.

Anybody. Only Le Louvre has more
visitors than our "happy" home.

But, Justine...

I will not let you go.

And how will you prevent it?

Perhaps a g*n at my head?

But, Justine,
we have been married for ten years.

I love you.

You love no-one.

You love only work.

But where will you go?

What could it possibly matter?

You have a lover?

Ah, mademoiselle, Sergeant Le Duc,
police.

I am looking for Monsieur Paul
Verrier.

Sergeant Le Duc,
my husband is here at your command.

With my compliments.

Seems I've come at an unfortunate
time, monsieur.

A brilliant deduction, Sergeant.
State your business and leave.

It er...

..is a question of an attempt on the
life of Monsieur Simon Templar.

From your car a quarter of an hour
ago, four sh*ts were fired at him.

And who, may I ask, was driving my
car?

It is extraordinary, monsieur.

I was about to ask you
exactly the same question.

Ah, Pierre.

This gentleman is from the police.

Be so kind as to inform him where I
have been

since I finished my luncheon.

You have been here, monsieur.

And I have not been out at any time?
No, monsieur.

Thank you, Pierre. That will be all.

This is my business partner, Mr
Andre Turgot.

You can confirm what my butler said?
But certainly.

No doubt.

But I am not satisfied.

Now listen carefully, Sergeant Le
Duc.

I have never ever in my life set
eyes on this Simon Templar.

I have no reason whatsoever to want
to k*ll him

and I have been in my home all
afternoon.

When you have sufficient evidence
and a warrant, you may come back.

For the time being,
you have my permission to leave.

Do I make myself quite clear?

Yes, monsieur.

Quite clear.

What in heaven's name is that all
about?

Oh, police stupidity.

Obviously. My car hasn't been out of
the garage since last night.

Paul, what are you going to do about
Justine?

She will come back.

She must.

Monsieur Fellows, I apologise...

Andre, dear boy, I am getting rather
impatient.

Yes. I will tell him that.

Please do.

ANDRE: Paul.

Hmm?

Fellows is still waiting.

Oh, Fellows.

Last night's receipts. Check them.

Of course.

You are very persistent, Fellows.

I want to buy this club
and the organisation behind it.

Including the Tangiers operation.

Seven million francs.

Payable where you like.

You can retire.

Relax.

Take things easy for the rest of your
life.

I am not the type to take things
easy.

Nothing for me, Adele.

And no bill for Mr Fellows.

How kind.

By the way, I am sorry to hear about
Justine.

How did you know?

I hear things.

I suggest you do not repeat them.

I suggest you think about my offer.

No threats, please.

Threats?

My dear boy, I don't do things that
way.

You know that.

I have an operation in London.

I want one in Paris.

Yours. And I'll pay you
seven million francs for it.

It's not for sale.

It will be.

Good night, Paul.

How much did he offer tonight?

Seven million francs. Stuffed pig!

Relax, my friend.
Relax?

Fellows tries to buy me out.
Justine leaves me.

The police accuse me of trying to
k*ll a man that I've never even met.

And you tell me to relax!

Very well. Do not relax.

I should go after Justine
and drag her home by the hair.

No, that would not work. Not with
Justine.

Did she ever mention this er...Simon
Templar?

Not that I can remember.
Does she know him?

I have no idea. Really, Paul, we
have much work to do.

The devil with work!

Do you mind putting the car away for
me, Andre?

Of course.

You are early, monsieur.

I didn't feel like work. No, don't
bother about the door. Monsieur Turgot is coming.

Monsieur, may I say something?

Need you ask?

I am desolated about madame.

Thank you, Pierre.

So am I.

Can I get you anything?

I will have a Cognac.

Oh, and, Monsieur Verrier...

..when you have so much on your mind,
I regret to mention it,

but er...

Well, it is the st.

Oh. Your salary.

I'm sorry to forget.

Oh, here.

Get my chequebook from the cabinet.

What happened?

Pierre!

Get Bolande.

Bolande?

Offer him , francs to k*ll
Templar.

Why?

Look at the door.

SIMON: Come in.

Inspector Quercy. Sergeant Le Duc.

Oh, you must meet my friends.

They play in the Paris Symphony.

Mr Templar,

last night you tried to k*ll Paul
Verrier.

Did I? Why?

Because he's a gangster and a
m*rder*r.

And because he tried to k*ll you.

Then why don't you arrest him?

It is not so easy.

There is a lack of evidence.

Mmm.

And just how did I make this attempt?

With a b*mb.

Of course, you do have evidence
against me?

Le Duc.

It's just not me. It's a
forgery.

Get out of that bed and dress
yourself.

You are under arrest.

Inspector,

I have never even laid eyes on Paul
Verrier.

Last night, at ten,

Therese, Celeste and myself,

we were practising a rather obscure
Mozart string quartet.

A quartet? With three people?

Jacqueline.

Yes, my angel.

A quartet.

You! You...!

A splendid performance, children.

Jacqueline.

You, darling, were merely
magnificent.

Simon, for you, anything.

Anything?
Any time.

Any time?
Any place.

Now you tell me!

You must watch him most carefully.

He must not be allowed to get within
a mile of Paul Verrier. Understand?

Yes, Inspector.

Oh, mon Dieu, they are violinists.

Garage, please.

Alphonse. Simon Templar.

Do you think you can bring
my car round in about half an hour?

By the way, thanks for the tip about
the expl*si*n in Paul Verrier's flat last night.

It came in very handy.

So did your three cousins.

Very lovely.

Bolande is outside.

Bring him in.

Paul, please do not do this thing.

Templar tried to k*ll me.

And instead he m*rder*d a man
who has worked for me for years.

Bolande, if you please.

Monsieur Bolande, will you come in,
please?

Merci.

Ah, Monsieur Verrier.

How pleasant to see you.

It has been much too long.

About seven months I think.

Eight months, days.

I keep track of these things.

Bolande, you never cease to amaze
me.

I mean, you look like a...

A clerk?

A nobody?

Oh, no, do not deny it.

I regard it as a compliment.

I am nondescript deliberately.

Nobody ever remembers having seen me.

That is why I am never caught.

Voila.

Who is the target?

Simon Templar.

The one they call The Saint.

Yes.

And where is he to be found?

Hotel Concorde, room .

Now, may I ask how you propose to...

The details are my affair.

He will be dead before noon.

And now we will talk about money.

Excusez-moi.

Inspector Quercy's ordered you
to follow me everywhere, right?

Right.
Hmm.

Then follow me.

Life's far too short for pettiness,
wouldn't you agree?

Absolument, monsieur.

Good. I'll take you to one of the
best restaurants in Paris.

And if you promise to forget you're a
detective, I'll promise not to try and give you the slip.

Your word of honour?

Word of honour.

Monsieur Templar, this luncheon...

In the police, we um...

Mon ami, you are to be my guest.
Ah, monsieur.

Oh, dear.

Did you forget something?
Yes, my cigarettes.

Monsieur, I regret, but...

I gave you my word of honour, didn't
I?

Ah, forgive me.

That's better.

Don't you think this is carrying free
expression a little too far?

Is this your profession or your
hobby?

There doesn't seem to be much point
in hanging it up, does there?

What's the matter?

Lockjaw?

Well, let's see if...will loosen it
up.

Oh, no.

Please don't!

No, no.

Don't!

Why the tears? You haven't been hit
yet.

I deserve it.

I am very silly, stupid and
childish.

And homicidal.

You fired four sh*ts at me
from Paul Verrier's car.

Oh, but you were in no danger.

I know. They were blanks.

I found a cartridge case in the car.

Oh, I would never really hurt you.

I...I just want to make you very
angry.

Well, you've been moderately
successful so far.

You...you must believe me.

I swear this is the truth.

I work for the newspaper.

And I learn that the great Simon
Templar is coming to Paris.

So I decide to make you so angry
towards Paul Verrier

that you will k*ll him.

You see, a year ago, there is a bank
robbery.

My father is a guard.

And Paul Verrier sh**t my father in
cold blood.

The police can prove nothing
and the case is dropped.

Oh, please,

please say you believe me.

Well, I'll er...

think about it while you tidy up my
room.

GIRL: Does this go here, Simon?

Are you going to take me to the
police, then?

Well, I don't usually do their work
for them.

Oh, please, Simon.

I swear I had nothing to do
with the b*mb in Verrier's flat.

You do believe me?

SIMON: Of course.

You're a simple, uncomplicated, nice
little girl.

Get down!

Congratulations, Inspector Quercy.
For once you got your man.

Who is he?

A hired g*n working for Paul Verrier.

You have no proof.

You will do nothing, you understand.

We will investigate this man
and we will question Verrier.

Well, you do that. But you'd better
have

some answers for me by this time
tomorrow.

Has Andre arrived yet?
Oui, Monsieur Verrier.

I want him.
Tres bien.

Paul.

Dear boy.

Good evening.

I just dropped in to offer my
profound sympathy.

What for?

For that simply frightful attempt on
your life. A b*mb going off?

Terrible.

And what do you know about it?

Oh, just what I read in the
newspapers.

And perhaps a little more, eh?

Maybe this Simon Templar is working
for you.

Oh, Paul.

You know that's ridiculous.

Heard from Justine?

Why are you so interested in my
wife?

I say, you are touchy this evening.

You know, it's sad. I always thought
you were the ideal couple.

I'll increase my offer.

Nine million francs.

You have until midnight on Thursday
to make up your mind.

And why the time limit?

I'm an impatient man, dear Paul.

Good night.

Your bill.

Thank you very much.

Yes, operator, in London.

Flaxman .

A personal call to Mr Charles
Braddock.

Braddock?
Yes.

Yes, I will hold the line.

But why?

Look at that.

Bolande was sh*t. He bungled it.

Templar is still alive.

This time with Braddock handling it,
there will be no mistake.

Oh.

Justine, my dear.

Have you seen Paul?
I did.

And?

I offered him nine million.

He refused?

Well, he er...didn't accept.

You know, my dear, it would solve all
our problems if Paul d*ed and you inherited.

Don't look so outraged, my dear
Justine.

I know perfectly well that you hired
Simon Templar to k*ll him.

Inspector Quercy,
I told you I wanted a few answers,

and since you don't have any,
I'll ask the questions myself.

QUERCY: I will not allow this
interference!

I absolutely forbid you
to take the law into your own hands!

I will...

Somebody has convinced Paul Verrier
that I want to see him dead.

So much so, he's trying to k*ll me
first. I think it's time we had a showdown.

He's mixed up in everything in Paris
that is evil.

Yes, I know. And I want a few of the
details.

Are you not afraid?

Why, should I be?

But he is very dangerous.

So am I.

Sorry, monsieur, we are closed.

I wish to see Monsieur Verrier.

You don't understand, monsieur.
He does not wish to be disturbed.

You were saying?

You must be Mr Braddock.

Monsieur Verrier.

It's a pleasure to meet you,
Mr Braddock.Thank you.

Of course, I know of you by
reputation.

Most people do.

Won't you come in?

Andre, this is Mr Braddock.

Monsieur Braddock, we were not
expecting you until the six o'clock flight.

Yes, well, I caught an earlier plane.

Andre is my lieutenant. Andre
Turgot.

I have heard that you have moved out
of London into the country, yeah?

Yes, my hobby is gardening.

But I called you at a London number.

I conduct my business from town.
I have an office there.

Well, coming to business, do you
know a man called Simon Templar?

Yes, I've met him. A likeable chap.

I want him k*lled.

May I er...ask why?

Well, one, because he tried to k*ll
me.

And failed?

I always thought that Simon Templar
was...% efficient.

Someone else was k*lled
by the merest accident.

The second reason is because he is
having an affair with my wife.

This is your wife?

Yes.

He has good taste.

Will you do it?

Of course. Nobody in the world is
better equipped to get rid of Simon Templar than me.

Excellent.

About my fee?

Well, money is no object.

How much did you pay Bolande?

You know about that?
Of course.

How?

It is my business.

Well, Bolande's fee was...

It really doesn't matter. Mine is
, francs.

,...?

Half now and half on completion.
That is a lot of money. I don't have...

Well, we might just as well forget
it. So, I'll say good morning.

Good morning.

Wait!

If I'm supposed to be having an
affair with Madame Verrier, I'd like to meet her.

Can you find her address?I think I
can get it at the newspaper.

The social columnist.

You do that. Track her down and then
meet me back at the hotel at :.

Simon, you are running a terrible
risk.

Well, that's what makes life
interesting.

I'll see you later.

Here we are.

, francs for
your immediate expenses.

Your fee will be half a million.

Half a million?

I can afford it.

Oh.

Very decent of you.

Now you check in the hotel
and wait in your room.

You do nothing until you hear from
me, you understand?

Mr Verrier, you're paying.

You're the boss.

That's right.

You rang for room service?

Oh, Simon.

Oh, you are late.

I'm so worried. Where have you been?

Confusing the ungodly.

Any news of Madame Verrier?

Oh, it is easy. She is staying at
the apartment of a friend who is visiting America.

Good work.

And I learned something else.

There is an Englishman
by the name of...Fellows.

He is trying most hard to buy
the business of Paul Verrier.

How hard?

What do you mean?

It's usually easier to buy someone's
business after they're dead.

In half an hour, call Inspector
Quercy.

Tell him to go to the Hotel Gala,
Rue Des Archives,

and pick up an Englishman
by the name of Charles Braddock.

What is he?

A gunman.

Where do you go now?

To see Madame Verrier.

Madame Verrier?
Yes.

I'm Simon Templar.

Not very hospitable, are you?

And why should I be?

Well, apparently, you and I are
having an affair, which everybody in Paris knows about.

Except us.

Please go!

Why? We're just getting to know each
other.

You...You tried to k*ll Paul!

You planted a b*mb in his apartment!

That's funny, because it's exactly
what I was going to say to you.

Stop being silly, Madame Verrier.

Answer a few questions.

Somebody is doing his or her best

to build up a vendetta between your
husband and me.

Who?

I don't know.

Fellows perhaps?

Ah, I see you know the name.

He is a friend.

I'll bet.

And he wants to buy your husband out?
Yes.

And you want him to sell?

Yes.
Why?

I want him to give up the life that
he leads.

On nine million francs, we could
live happily for the rest of our lives.

Well, Madame Verrier, the way things
are going,

the rest of your husband's life
is going to be uncomfortably short.

Mr Fellows would like to talk with
you.

Why didn't you say so?

I just can't wait to talk to Mr
Fellows.

Ah, such warm hospitality.

Ah, Mr Templar.

I've been looking forward
to meeting you for years.

I hope you're not disappointed.

Oh, but I am.

Those attempts on Verrier's life,
almost amateur.

I'd have thought you'd be much more
inventive.

Well, I apologise. How would you have
done it?

Perhaps invited him here.

Suggested we had some steam.

Then arranged to have him locked in.

With the steam full on, you'd be
surprised

what happens to a man in four or
five hours.

Faintly reminiscent of broiled
chicken.

How appetising.

Or I'd have arranged a car accident.

Or a fall from a high building.

But a b*mb in his flat?

Oh, really, Templar.

Well, Mr Fellows, I shall give your
suggestions some very careful thought.

Please do.

But not until after midnight on
Thursday.

Oh?

I'm in the middle of some rather
delicate negotiations with Paul.

Buying his business?

Just so.

And I'd like him to remain alive
until after the deal is completed.

Until then, just as a precaution,
you understand,

you'll be staying here.

As my guest.

Well, I er... I might as well make
myself comfortable.

Do.

And as soon as I've acquired
the business from Paul,

you may k*ll him in any way that
your whimsical sense of humour may suggest.

You're very generous.

Come in.

Ah, Braddock.

Templar's passport.

His wallet.

He is dead?

In his hotel room.

I am impressed.

All in a day's work.
Now I'll have the balance of my fee.

You have earned it.

It is a pleasure to work with a
professional.

I'm glad you appreciate me.

You had no difficulty?

Not particularly.

There is no possibility
of my being implicated in any way?

None.

You are going back to London?

On the er...midnight plane.

There is just one thing that baffles
me.

Oh, what's that?

Why should Templar want to k*ll me?

ANDRE: Ask him.

He's Templar.

The real Braddock has been arrested.

Ah, well, you can't win 'em all.

If we want him dead,
we shall have to do it ourselves.

You're right.

I don't suppose
anybody cares about my opinion.

The old house on the building site.

Oh, you own that? I wondered how that
tied in.

Through the bar, and no false moves,
please.

Up.

Just one question, Andre.

Who gets it first?

Paul.

Andre!

Very neat trick, Andre.

Oh, and thanks for calling the
police.

Don't mention it.

He called Inspector Quercy,
told him about Bolande.

You see, it didn't suit his plans
to have me k*lled first.

But why?

Shall I tell him, Andre?

Or will you?

Please do. If it amuses you.

A girl named Annette had the
brilliant idea

of f*ring blanks at me from your car.

She reasoned that if she could get me
mad enough, I might be goaded into k*lling you.

But why should she want me k*lled?

Her father was a bank guard.

He was k*lled in a bank robbery
which you were involved in.

Anyway, all this suited Andre's plans
to a tee.

He planted the b*mb in your flat,
and tried to frame me for it.

Is this true?

I'm afraid so.

And now he plans to k*ll you first
and then me.

And when the police eventually find
us, they'll figure we sh*t it out.

But I have always been your friend.

I've always treated you fairly.

I've worked for you for years.

Always you had everything.

And I had to take what was left.

You even had Justine.

And now you think you can sell out
to Fellows

and throw me on the scrap heap.

Well, it is not going to work.

The men will never accept you.

Not if they think that I k*lled you.

But if they think that Templar did
it,

and that you sh*t him in
self-defence,

they will actually be begging me to
take over.

Then, Mr Templar, it would seem
that we are both on the same side.

Not that it will do you any good.

Thanks, Verrier.

I'm sorry, Monsieur Templar,

..that we could not have known
each other better.

Inspector, you'd better get a doctor
for Verrier.

Sergeant.
Yes, Inspector.

Andre was behind it all along.

He wanted to take over.

Oh, Simon, are you all right?

I'm fine.

It takes more than this
to k*ll a Saint.