01x04 - A case for m*rder

[bunniefuu]

[BRIGHT MUSIC]

[DRAMATIC MUSIC]

Oran is a rock's throw from the
biggest rock of them all, Gibraltar.

It's the Skid Row of North Africa.

Customs have seen a lot of unusual
merchandise brought into port,

but we still had them reeling

when we pulled into harbour
one bright day

carrying a cargo of sewing machines.

I did understand Monsieur to say,
uh, sewing machines?

That's right.

And may I be privileged
to examine the cargo?

Sure.

Something wrong?

No, Monsieur, it is as you say,



All yours now.
Thank you.

What do you think?

I'm not sure.

Give us a whistle if he comes back.

Feel OK?

All right.

Just breathe in deeply.
You'll be all right in a minute.

As soon as it gets dark,

we'll put you ashore
in a sewing machine crate.

Oh, you are very kind.

Well, how's our star boarder?

All right.
Good.

You wouldn't like to tell us
what this is all about, would you?

I am sorry.

OK, just curious.

Take care of him, Johnny.
I'm going ashore.

Sure.

Come on this way.

[CHATTERING]

In every Mediterranean port,

there's always one man
who knows what's going on.

He may even tell you about it,

if you pay his price.

In Iran, that man's name
was Laszlo Varga.

[GONG CLANGING]

[LAUGHING]

Varga, one of these days,

someone is gonna to steal your shop
right from under your fez.

How are you?
Oh, nobody steals from Varga.

I know too much.

How are you, Mitch, my dear boy?

Fine, Varga, fine.

I think I'm in a bit of trouble,
though.

Oh, that's no news.

News is when you are NOT in trouble.

[LAUGHING]

Well, what is it this time, eh?

Something I brought in with me.

I think it's worth more than
I've been paid for transporting it.

What is it? I will price it.

An honest price, you understand.

Diamonds?

No, a man.

Nervous. I think he's
up to his neck in trouble.

What were you paid for him?



Oh, he must have gold teeth
with such a price on his head.

Who is he?

That's what I came to you
to find out.

Well, describe
the merchandise to me.

Well, medium build.

Arab not Berber.
Speaks French fluently.

European dress, about 35.

Wears a talisman around his neck.
A large, ornate ring.

If it's the man I think it is,

he should be worth
at least a million francs.

A million francs?

I shall be content with 10 percent.

Mmm.

Who is he?

Ahhh... [CHUCKLING]

Varga, you haven't changed
since I've known you.

Here.

Something on account.

His real name, no one knows.

But they call him El Harra,
which means the proud one.

So?

You have heard of Abhed Zakhari?

Yes, Zakhari.

He was the man who was emir of all
Morocco before they carved it up.

Exactly.

El Harra was captain of the guard
at Zakhari's old court.

A man who stirred the sword
of his followers by his courage.

He became the centre of
a new nationalist organisation,

which was firmly opposed to Zakhari.

Thanks, Varga.

All clear.

A word of advice, my old friend.

You may not know it,

but you are standing on the volcano.

By the time I'd reached Zakhari's,
I had a plan pieced together

that was going to do
two people a lot of good.

El Harra and myself.

What do you want? I'm a busy man.

How's the revolution coming,
Zakhari?

You come here
to make dangerous jokes?

No, nothing could be
further from my mind.

I'm here on business.

Yeah?

Then kindly be brief.

Well, briefly...

..how much is El Harra worth to you?

I do not know the name.

I'll spell it.

E-L Harra.

Who are ya? What do you want?

Name's Mitchell.
I'm a travelling salesman.

I have one item for sale.

El Harra.

That is a lie.

Nobody catches El Harra!

Except Zakhari.

OK.

Nice to see you.

Hey, wait!

Where is he?

That comes later.

First, the cash.

How much?

I think I could let him go
to a friend for...

..a million francs.

Say, what kind of a rotten joke
is this?

You're not really going to sell
El Harra to him, are you?

We're gonna sell Mr Zakhari
a crate of sewing machines

for a million francs.

But why?

Why not?

Well, it's just not like you,
that's all.

There's something behind all this.

[BOAT HORN HONKS]
Maybe.

We'll soon find out.

Get the crates ready.

You're the boss.

I think that'll
be all right for size.

Are you sure you
want to go through with this?

I can still
take you back to Marseille.

My truck will call for me at nine.

There are men who will look
after me,

as I will look after them.

Their password is "Freedom eternal."

OK, it's your country.

Goodbye and good luck.

Goodbye, Mr Mitchell.
We shall meet again.

What makes you so sure?

It is ordained.

Nail me in now.

All right.

[MYSTERIOUS MUSIC]

[VEHICLE APPROACHING]

OK, fellas, there's the truck.

Make sure you remember
which crate is which.

I'm going to mark these now.

M for machine.

OK?

H for human.

[TENSE MUSIC]

Which one's with the truck?

You'll have to
go down and find out.

If they pay you a million francs,
it's Zakhari's men,

they get the sewing machines.

If they pay you 100,000,
they're El Harra's men.

They get El Harra.

I don't like it.
Still, if you say so.

I do.

We have brought
the truck as suggested.

And have you, as suggested,
brought the money?



Are you sure that's all?


a price to pay for...

..freedom eternal.

I'll take your word for it.

There's your merchandise.

OK for crate H.

OK for crate H. Take her up.

Easy does it.

Yes, sir.

OK?

[SPEAKING ARABIC]

Yeah, salam to you, too.

All right, fellas,
get crate M ready.

There's the first 100,000
in the kitty. Now what?

Now we wait for our first million.

There it comes now.
I'll handle this one myself.

Well, what's wrong?

Don't you have any more men
working for you, Zakhari?

I couldn't resist the temptation

of making your
charming acquaintance again.

Oh, thank you.

Now I'll take that crate.
I'll open it.

If El Harra's inside and alive,

I'll pay you one million francs.
Good?

Bad. You pay the cash,
you get the crate.

It's a seller's market.

I will not be dealt with so!
I am Zakhari.

All right.

Goodbye, Zakhari.

Come back, please.

Ready to talk business?

All right.

Let's have the crate.

You pay the cash, you get the crate.

You give me the crate,
and I give you the money.

You drive a hard bargain, but...

All right.

Send her down.

All right for crate M.

No sound inside.

Perhaps he's dead.

Perhaps.

You want him, don't you?
Dead or alive?

I didn't say that!

The money, Zakhari.

Count it.

I trust you, Zakhari.

Have fun.

[TRUCK STARTING]

OK, fellas. Haul in the packet.

That's the quickest million
I've ever seen you make, Mitch.

The quickest million
I've ever seen anybody make.

Yeah. Too quick and too easy.

That's not like
the Zakhari I know.

You don't like that guy, do you?

Nope.

Mitch.

Yeah.

How would you like to come clean?

It kind of gets on my nerves,
playing with dynamite in the dark.

Sure.

It happened in Tangiers
some years ago, Johnny.

I knew a girl.
Her name was Arlette.

She was French.

Her parents were k*lled.

She was brought up
by a Moroccan family,

grew up with the son of a house.

Came to think of him as her brother.
I never met him.

Zakhari saw Arlette.

Wanted her.

She wouldn't have anything
to do with him. She was...

She was in love
with somebody else.

Zakhari was dictator,
and he was too strong for her.

What happened to her?

Well...

She gave me up.

You?

Yeah.

A million francs.

I think you let him off
pretty cheap.

He'll be back.

Then what?

And then we really start
paying off old debts.

[SOFT SOMBRE MUSIC]

[LIGHTLY EXHALING]

[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]

It's you.

Oh, Mitch.

Arlette.

[WHIMPERING]

What are you doing here?

I came to k*ll you.

You what?

Last night my brother came to Oran

where they had
been carrying on his work.

Our men hid a truck
ready to take him inland.

But it was surprised
by Zakhari's men.

They tortured the driver
and got the password.

Freedom eternal.

Then they said,

"The American
who brought my brother from France

"had betrayed him
for a million francs."

So I came to k*ll the American.

Your brother is El Harra.

You... you didn't know?

Oh, how could I know? Of course not.

I never knew him in the past.

He never spoke much on the boat.

Arlette,
I didn't betray your brother.

That was a neat little scheme I had

for paying Zakhari back
for the past.

He even pretended
to bargain with you.

Yes, yes, he's a very funny man.

Arlette, I give you my word.

I'll get your brother back
if it's the last thing I do.

But first thing,
I've got to get you to a safe place,

and I think I know the right one,
a friend of mine, Varga.

And then I'll pay a visit
to another friend,

Zakhari.

And you are quite certain
you haven't seen El Harra?

How often have I to tell you?

No.

Nor have you heard of a
mysterious crate of sewing machines

that was found by
the side of a deserted truck

on the coastal road.

I'm not a woman.
I do not use sewing machines.

That was not the question.

The question is,
how did those sewing machines

get to the coastal road?

Why are they there?

And who k*lled the men

who were lying by the roadside
with their throats cut?

I can answer
the first two questions.

Our friend Zakhari
we'll have to answer the last.

Mr Grant Mitchell, no doubt.

Yes.

I'm so glad you could
come and join us, Mr Mitchell.

You have saved me
a trip to your boat.

Oh, really? Did you want a ride?

Yes. For you and your crew.

I want you to be
out of Oran Harbour

by 6 o'clock tonight, without fail.

I'm delighted.

I would first like to have a chat
with our friend Zakhari.

We shall have a little
g*n-to-g*n talk, Mr Mitchell, eh?

Enough of that.

I'm taking Mr Mitchell
down to his boat

to make sure he leaves on time.

As for you, Zakhari,
let me warn you.

We have no evidence against you,

but others may not wait for that
before they proceed to punishment.

Know whom I mean?

Goodbye.

After you, Mr Mitchell.

[CHATTERING]

[TENSE MUSIC]

[DRAMATIC MUSIC]

[GROANING]

[GRUNTING]

[CHATTERING]

The list of your men.

I want the list of your men,
El Harra.

It's no use. I haven't got it.

You can k*ll me,
but I haven't got it.

Then where is it?!

It's on the boat.

In the hold.

We go to the boat...

We run considerable risks.

American boat is American territory.

There is no alternative. Hasan!

Get this, pick through the boat!

See first that the crew has left.

But how, sir?

Get a car, fool, I'll tell you how!

Yes, sir.

[CHATTERING]

[DOOR SLAMMING]

[ENGINE RUMBLING]

[g*n CLICKING]

Where did you get this ring?

I found it.

All right. No questions.

I will weigh it, and I will
give you a fair price for it.

[GASPS] But--

Shhh.

This is my brother's ring.
Where did you get it?

Shhh.

[TELEPHONE RINGING]

Yes?

For you.

For me?

Hello?

Arlette.

Oh, Mitch.

Where are you?

I'm at Mahjeb's tobacco warehouse.

Remember that name.

Mahjeb et compagnie,
exportation de tabac.

Zakhari uses this
as his private jail.

Your brother was here less than half
an hour ago. Johnny saw him.

Mitch, I think I know
where to find him.

Yes?

There's a man here in the shop.

He's trying to sell a ring.

It is just my brother's ring.

Keep him there.
We'll be right over.

Luck just gave us a ring. Come on.

But I tell you, it IS gold.
It's worth 10,000 francs at least.



If you will not pay more,
I shall take it right to--

El Harra?

You m*rder*r.

The one who k*lled my friend.

Where is he?

He's on Mr Mitchell's boat.

Say that again.

They took him to find the list.

In the hold.

Johnny.
Varga, take care of Arlette.

She can take care of me.

Hey, Mitch!

What are you boys doing here?

Well, your note said to meet you
here at the Cafe Maroc.

What note?
Here.

This is the note
I sent you this morning.

One of Zakhari's men
must have picked it up.

Come on, back to the boat.

That's an aristeia.

Lying carrion!

You will die for this.

Look, there's--

Welcome aboard!

[SHOT BLASTING]

[MEN GRUNTING]

Alfonso, quick, the first aid kit.

Put your hands up.

Ah, you are in my way.

Why, you Frenchman.

You're in my way.

Good work, Mr Mitchell.

If you get him into shape, you can
take him away in half an hour.

If not, he will be in jail in Oran
for the rest of his life.

You have precisely 28 minutes.

After that, you, too, will enjoy

the hospitality of
our fine local prison.

[SOFT MUSIC]

Thank you, Mitch.

I wish I could go with you.

Oh, but you said--

I must stay and finish the work
my brother began.

One of us must stay in Morocco.

Goodbye, Mitch.

Goodbye, Arlette.

We will meet again.

Sure.

Goodbye, my brother.

I will do what I can.

I know you will.

I'll come back soon.

Just a moment, please.

Mitch, you owe me a little money.




What are you talking about?



Well, let it never be said that

Grant Mitchell
isn't a man of more than his word.

Here.

Have the works.

Hey, Mitch!

Hey, this is money.

Treat it with respect.

Well, examine it with respect,
my friends. It's counterfeit.

Counterfeit?

[LAUGHING]

[SOFT SOMBRE MUSIC]

[BRIGHT MUSIC]