Stephen! It was brilliant!
- Thank you Maurice
- Come on, make them happy once more.
No, old pal. Tonight
I'm making myself happy.
- Mr Orlac, reporters are asking you.
- Thank you. Good night.
For the Daily Mail, Mr Orlac.
What do you think of... -Sorry.
I must be in Paris in two hours.
I just have time to go to the airport to
take a private plane. I have an appointment.
- With glory as usual?
- No, tonight it's with love.
- He must over the channel now.
- Time enough for you to put your Channel.
Oh, Emilie!
I really have the funniest
maid of honour in Paris.
Too bad you're not the most skillful.
I'm sorry Miss. This appointment is
making me as much nervous as you.
- Surely it's for tonight?
- What is for tonight?
The proposal for marriage.
When I think I will have
to call Miss Mrs.
You know Emilie, I'm afraid.
- It's not the first time Mr Orlac is taking a plane.
- Silly you, I'm afraid of my reaction.
Living with an artist is not easy.
All these women around him. How can
I be sure I'm as well as they are?
Easy. Miss just have to
take a look at herself.
Thank you my dear Emilie.
You're unlucky Sir. Zero
visibility over the Paris area.
You must absolutely land at Orly
or the Bourget airport.
A pilot's duty is to avoid risks.
- I'm taking the risk.
Do the impossible. -Ok.
Bourget Airport?
His hands. My God, his hands.
- No way to get through. -Please
it's urgent. A serious casualty.
- You have to go back.
The road is blocked. -But why?
There's an execution at La Sante jail. They're going to
guillotine Louis Vasseur the strangler, you surely heard of him.
I beg of you. We're carrying Stephen
Orlac, the well-known pianist.
His hands are burned to the bone. If he's not
operated now he will never be able to use them anymore.
- It's not my fault. I have orders.
- We must get him to the clinic right now. Vasseur is going to die.
He won't need his hands anymore
his strangler's hands.
But Orlac's hands must play again.
We must save Orlac's hands. I beg you!
It's alright. Go on.
Professor Volchek?
I've been called from the Bourget.
It's Stephen Orlac, isn't it?
Yes, the pianist.
No need to precise Mrs.
I'm a music lover.
You're his wife?
Not yet but...
I understand.
I'm also Dr Decrochance's goddaughter.
A very good friend and
a very good psychiatrist.
- Always in London?
- Yes.
Professor you must save
Stephen Orlac's hands.
They wanted to take him to Beaujon.
I beg until they brought him here.
My godfather talked about your miracles.
Without his hands Stephen would be a zombie.
All right then.
Because of my friendship with
Decrochance and my love for music
I will try the impossible.
But before that I need to
eat something.
No miracle could be performed
on an empty stomach.
- And the other?
- It's done Sir. 56a
Louis Vasseur pays for his crimes.
Stephen Orlac loses his hands.
Come on, calm down, Mr Orlac.
You know you mustn't move.
Sorry, I'm late, my darling. I hope
you enjoyed your time rehearsing.
I tried...
but there's no way.
Come on. You can't hope only
six months after the operation...
Volchek warned us.
It will take some time.
My hands don't obey
me anymore, Louise.
I have the feeling sometimes...
What feeling, darling?
The feeling that I love you.
- Only a feeling?
- No.
It's a certainty.
Stephen...
before your accident we planned to marry.
What are waiting for now?
Before my accident I was
Stephen Orlac the pianist.
But who I am now with
these useless hands?
Take mine then.
Take my hands.
Marry me and I will help you.
Did I hurt you?
My hands are out of control.
Don't be ridiculous Stephen.
You look odd...
It's nothing.
I'm sorry Louise. I'm leaving.
I need to be alone.
- Do you want me to drive you home?
- No thank you.
I prefer walking.
It will help me clear my mind.
I beg you, Stephen. Have faith.
Good bye my darling.
Good bye.
Come closer Ladies and gentlemen!
Try out the strenght in your hands.
The hand makes the man.
Hand play means smart head. Nothing
in the pocket, all in your hand.
Get nearer. You Sir don't be afraid.
I think you'll love it.
For a small coin only. A very small coin.
Thank you Sir. You will know
the strenght in your hand.
Right or left. No politics in the house.
Take it easy man.
You're going to break my machine.
Come on, give him his prize.
Well...
Take your prize. A nice doll
And don't caress her too hard
with your Hercule's hands.
Come on, Sir, it's your turn...
Hello?
The clinic?
I'd like to talk to Professor Volchek.
He's absent. He left for
a medical congress in Moscow.
It's Stephen Orlac speaking.
Dear Mr Orlac!
You're happy with your new hands?
The Professor is a real sorcerer!
Stephen...
Louise...
- I need your help.
- I know. That's why I came.
I don't want to leave you
alone anymore, Stephen.
I called my godfather in London.
He's lending us his villa.
The French Riviera darling... and me!
Especially you.
Emilie will go first to prepare the house.
You'll see. Everything will be fine.
Darling?
Are you happy?
I think I could be happy here.
This silence.
- Thank you Louise.
- Come on Michou.
Say hello to your mistress.
My small Michou, how
beautiful you grew up.
Isn't he beautiful, Stephen?
- Wonderful.
- Come on, say hello Michou.
This Sir will soon be part of
the family, you know.
What's wrong with him?
He's not so fearful usually.
He lets everybody caressing him.
A little bit too much in my opinion.
Well, cats are whimsical.
Poor Michou...
Poor little Michou.
- Someone killed him. -This morning
he didn't come for his milk.
I called for him. I looked for
him everywhere.
I found him here.
Below Mr Orlac's windows.
It probably happened in the night.
Didn't you hear something Sir?
- Nothing at all. I was sleeping.
- A dog maybe?
No, there's no bite mark on him.
Someone snapped the neck of your cat.
- He was strangled, I tell you!
- You're mad, Ange. Who would do that?
With that crazy wind
blowing who knows?
Who would commit such an ugly thing?
Killing a beast without defense.
Michou liked everybody.
Maybe it's the gypsies. They were
prowling around the house yesterday.
You're right Emilie.
It's probably the gypsies.
- I could call the police...
- No Miss.
You cannot call the police for a cat.
They're only after the big fishes!
Poor Michou.
The ground is hard, isn't it?
Yes Sir, no rain for two months.
You good Sir should not go
out without a hat.
Sun can burn even with the strong wind.
Precisely. You think a hat
could hold in such a wind?
I meant no harm by saying that.
Sun is like the strong wind. It
doesn't sit well with nervous people.
You think I'm nervous?
I didn't say that Sir.
You didn't say that but your
eyes speak for themselves.
Do you think I'm not aware
of what's going on in your head?
You think it's me who
killed that cat.
You're sure it's me.
I have the hands of
a strangler, right?
I have the hands of a strangler,
come on, say it!
Or are you afraid
that I strangle you too?
Stephen!
Are you crazy? What's going on?
I'm sorry.
- I hope I didn't hurt him.
- There's no need to dramatize.
Let's say you're not the first
one this old grumpy man makes angry.
Do you think it was a simple anger?
Since this accident
I feel like I'm slowly becoming crazy.
- I'm afraid of myself, I'm afraid Louise.
- Come on, you know that Ange warned us...
Where there's a strong wind
it's the devil blowing.
Stephen, the case is closed.
You should try to work darling.
Even if the wind carries the notes away.
It's useless. I will never
find my mechanisms again.
You must try harder Stephen. Even the
great maestros have some hard times.
Try again.
Then stand there in front of me.
Everything is much more
easier when I look at you.
- You see?
- With you eveything is possible.
You're my miracle Louise.
Stephen!
Stephen! You're crazy!
I thought you wanted to kill me.
I'm sorry Louise, I'm sorry...
I can't stay here anymore.
Not a minute more.
No, let me go.
Let me go!
Mrs! Mrs Aliberti!
Sir?
You have a room?
You're alone?
Yes, alone.
For how long?
If only I knew.
I'm going to give you the
number 3 on the first floor.
It's a nice little room with a balcony.
You want to take a look?
I take it.
Ok.
First the sheet.
Please.
Where is your luggage?
I don't have any.
In this case I'm sorry but I'm
forced to ask you an advance.
Thanks.
Please follow me.
Don't worry. I'll bring it for you.
- Hello Mrs Aliberti.
- Hello.
So, not ready yet?
- I'm coming.
- Do not hurry.
We have a new neighbour.
- And then? -A very interesting
neighbour interesting me
and who will soon interest you too.
Again?
Yes, my beauty. Again.
- Who is he?
- I don't know. He pretends his name is Stephen...
...but he's not fooling
anyone, especially me.
He has a nice allure
and lots of money.
Your kind of man.
Very funny.
Tell me then why he's sleeping
in such a crummy hotel.
Smart. Very smart.
That's precisely the question
we need to ask ourselves.
If a guy like him doesn't go to the Grand
Hotel it's because he has something to hide.
And if he has something to hide...
it will be a piece of cake for us.
- And if I refused for once?
- One cannot go against his disposition.
You're absolutely and
wonderfully disgusting.
Then we're made for each other.
Oh, my God! I thought
this room was empty.
It was. I arrived this morning.
I'm sorry if I wake you up.
It's nothing.
Well, too bad. I'm leaving then.
Look what he's done to me!
Please try to help me with my dress.
I'm sorry to ask you but I can't
leave your room dressed like that.
Take this.
Thanks.
Neron is such a rough guy!
He almost broke my shoulder.
Neron?
His artist name. Neron and Li-Lang.
- Li-Lang, it's you?
- Yes.
In my country it means
morning flower.
Alas...
Why alas?
Because Neron is a madman.
He used to think he was a genius
actor. Now he's just a lousy ham.
So he takes his revenge on
everybody in general
and particularly on me.
Why don't you part with him?
Yes I could of course but I
feel like I'm paralyzed.
You don't know what it
means to be afraid.
On the contrary.
I'm afraid myself sometimes.
Do you want money?
No thanks.
But I'd like a glass of whisky.
Make yourself at home.
Do you like me?
You seem to be a nice guy.
I'd like to know you better.
But tell me something...
What are you afraid of?
Well...
keep your secrets.
But we're still friends, right?
Why not?
You will come to see me
at the Blue Monkey?
- Maybe...
- When?
One of these nights.
What time it is?
I'm still going to get caught.
If only I could leave him, go away...
disappear...
That's it, the show must go on.
The smile on command, the songs...
Poor Li-Lang.
Then?
Then what?
You know very well what I mean.
How is it going with Mr Stephen?
Very well.
You're not very talkative.
But I could make you talk.
- I did like you asked.
- And?
It worked.
It's not enough.
When are you seeing him again?
I won't be astonished to see him in
the audience one of these nights.
He has a wallet loaded
with bank-notes.
You already noticed that?
Yes. He wanted to give me money.
- To set up with him?
- No. To leave you on your own and I will
accept his offer if you keep on like that.
To leave us on our own? Us?
Our dear Li-Lang will never leave
us on our own, right Mephisto?
The car was found with no bumps?
No, don't send it to the pound. I'm leaving
for Marseille. I'm taking care of the car.
Yes thanks.
Emilie, ask Ange to get
the Citroen ready.
If we leave now we'll be in Marseille
before night. -Alright Miss.
You're lonely, darling?
That's it! He's here! He will
probably try to come to see me here.
Try to leave us alone.
A certain Mr Stephen would like
to greet Miss Li-Lang.
He's asking her for a
drink at his table.
Probably a gentleman.
Tell Mr Stephen that Miss Li-Lang will
be awfully glad to have one with him.
Take this.
And spruce yourself up
for your charming prince.
A prince? He looks
more like a bum tonight.
His coat could be used to
scratch some matches.
In default of matches you could
still serve to light him up.
While you're doing your
approach works...
I'm back at the hotel. You will
bring him back around midnight.
At exactly half past midnight I will
play him the big brother trick.
Which means?
I will break his door to
protect my little sister
from a fate more
disgraceful than death itself.
No, we don't have a
Mr Orlac in our hotel.
I'm sorry Mrs. I'm
sorry for bothering you.
Try the hotel on the other side of
the street. Maybe he's there.
I'm sorry Mrs.
Are you looking for Mr Stephen
Orlac the pianist? -Yes, you know him?
I recognized him at once.
I'm also an artist.
He's here. Room number 3.
What nonsense is that? There's no
Mr Orlac in the 3. It's Mr Stephen.
Yes, old girl.
But Stephen and Stephen Orlac are the
same article. Quod erat demonstrandum.
If Mrs wants to follow me.
You will wait Mr Orlac in his
room. He'll be back in a while.
You dance?
- So, you liked my number?
- Very much.
But you're a pearl
amidst a sea of swine.
A pearl?
It's true. I deserve a jewel case
but I'm working in cardboard joints.
We're going somewhere else?
The air is too polluted here.
And my job, you think about it?
I must sit at the tables.
Be nice with the customers.
It's part of my contract.
- You want me to talk to the manager?
- Oh no...
Surely not. Neron would take
this occasion to have my scalp.
Listen Mr Stephen.
It's not a place for you here.
Go back to the hotel.
I will see you there in one hour.
We'll be more comfortable in your room.
Don't you think?
Louise...
Why did you leave me?
I did not run away from you.
I ran away from me.
But it wasn't a big success.
So let'go home. Don't stay alone.
Loneliness will give you black thoughts.
If it was only that.
Louise...
You remember the accident?
This horrible night when I was
carried to Volchek's clinic?
- How could I forget?
- Well...
- Something happened during that night.
At dawn. -You got an operation.
Yes, the operation. That's it.
At the same time, Louis Vasseur,
the strangler, was guillotined.
- There's no relation.
- Of course there is a relation, Louise.
It's unbelievable.
It's monstruous but there
must be a relation.
- Calm down please.
- My hands, Louise, my hands!
They dominate me, they govern me!
As if they belonged to someone
else. To Louis Vasseur for instance.
You think that Volchek... It's unbelievable. It sounds
grand-guignolesque. It's not worthy of an intelligent man like you.
I know but I can't get rid
of this obsession.
I'm afraid of my hands!
Afraid of me!
It's all in your head Stephen. You
only have your imagination to blame for.
- Try to get a grip on yourself.
- Don't you think I already tried that?
But if Volchek succeded in
transplanting eyes, kidneys,
even brains,
he could also have succeded in transplanting
the hands of another man to me.
And just by luck he would
have chosen the hands of a murderer?
- Volchek is a genius, not a monster.
- All geniuses are sorcerer's apprentices.
But now his work have gone out of control.
These hands...
I'm not their master anymore!
They're scaring me.
Come on, Stephen...
Go away Louise, go away.
I'm not afraid of your
hands Stephen. Look.
They're built for Chopin, Debussy,
and also for me.
You must come back
to the villa right now.
Not yet Louise.
I need to take stock
of the question.
Face to face with myself. Alone.
You'd better leave.
I'm going.
But I'm alive.
Don't forget that I'm alive.
I'm waiting for you Stephen.
When you're ready.
- You didn't find him, Miss?
- I did.
- Where is he?
- In business.
It's all in your head Stephen. You
only have your imagination to blame for.
You must come back
to the villa right now.
I'm going but I'm alive.
Don't forget that I'm alive.
I'm waiting for you Stephen.
So, you forgot about me?
Yes.
- Completely.
- What happened?
- You have changed.
- It's possible.
I'm leaving Li-Lang.
Then it's all over...
It's all over. I thought that...
Poor Li-Lang.
Neron will laugh at her.
He will beat her to a pulp.
Maybe he will kill her.
Good night. Or maybe I
should say good morning
since dawn from her rosy roof
already knocks at the windows.
It's Neron. He's going
to kill both of us!
But what's biting the young tart?
Come on, scram to the corridor.
Mr and I have some things to talk about.
Women are impossible, don't you think?
But between honest men we should
find a way to settle things Mr Orlac.
You know who I am?
Stephen Orlac.
Chopin, Listz, Debussy...
I spent unforgettable
evenings thanks to you.
When I read the story of
your accident in the newspapers...
I told myself, it's too awful,
there's no justice in this world.
Then I felt reassured.
I learnt that you were in good hands.
Professor Votchek.
An ace.
He took care of...
someone I was well acquainted with.
Poor Louis.
Poor Vasseur.
Vasseur?
He was my friend.
Mr Orlac...
In memory of the
unfortunate Louis Vasseur
allow me to shake his hand.
- My darling, I'm disturbing you...
- Of course.
How such a beautiful wife
could not be a disturbance?
Come here. Disturb me. I love it.
Stephen, it's almost noon.
There is no time for the brave.
Saved by the gong.
A telegram to Mr Orlac.
It's from Maurice Seidelman.
Your impresario from London.
A course of recitals for the next month.
Still five minutes.
I'm going in the audience.
You know what I'm wishing you?
Come back at the interlude.
You will tell me what they say.
Yes and I will bring you godfather.
There Sir. Not a single grain
of dust anymore.
Thank you.
I was never out of my suit
such a long time before.
You will catch up time.
I smell a success for tonight.
And me I smell mothballs!
Too bad. Maybe it will
be my lucky charm.
Come in.
So? I'm just checking if you're
ready and if you feel alright.
I'm fine, thank you.
And the receipts?
Smashing! You had any doubt?
It's wonderful.
I hope they won't be disappointed.
Anxious?
Not really.
And you?
Me?
Not tonight.
I'm coming back in a minute.
A messenger just brought this. I
thought you would like to have it asap.
Do you still need my help?
I'm fine. Thank you.
Folding seats only. Are you ready?
A moment please Maurice.
Good God!
You're pale like a corpse!
You mean pale as a ghost.
You probably had nothing
to eat since your breakfast.
- It's true. -It's not wise from you.
Grave error.
You must eat. Food buries the worries.
"The condemned first ate and drink.
Then he proudly walked toward the scaffold. "
A glass of good Brandy is always
prescribed in these occasions.
No thanks.
Are you sure?
Well, let's go then.
Stephen, you're not feeling well?
I'm calling a Doctor.
- Where can he be?
- Let's give him 10 minutes.
I don't understand. Before the recital
he was full of hope, confident in himself.
Stephen is highly strung, isn't he?
Like all artists.
Not all of them.
Has he already give you other
grounds for concern?
Never.
Uncle Francis...
Let's talk about
something else please.
On the contrary. Continue.
- Pretend I'm not here.
- Stephen, I was so afraid.
You were wrong.
Critics will laud my genius.
Since nowadays you must make
a scandal to be declared a genius.
I can imagine Seidelman's face
reimbursing every ticket.
It's him now needing a Doctor.
Stephen, explain what happened.
I didn't expect an evening like this one.
Me neither.
Dear Stephen...
I know you don't like
Doctors in general and
psychiatrists in particular
but I think I can help you.
Why not coming to ask my
advice one of these days?
Or one of my colleagues if you prefer.
You should do that Stephen.
No thanks.
I made my own diagnosis.
I don't need yours.
I'm asking a cab for you Doctor?
No thanks. I have my car.
It's just as well.
I need some sleep.
And you too I believe.
Good night Stephen.
Good night.
Poor godfather. You were
not very kind with him.
- With you neither.
- It doesn't matter with me.
I'm your wife.
And I love you Stephen.
Hello?
Am I speaking to Louis Vasseur?
What do you say?
- Who do you want?
- Louis Vasseur.
You're on the telephone? Who's
calling at this hour of the night?
It's no-one.
A wrong number.
Mrs?
- Am I at Mr Orlac's apartment?
- He's outside.
- Are you Mrs Orlac? -Yes.
I have to speak to you then.
I'm sorry to bother you
but it's very important.
Please come in, Mrs.
- Sit down.
- Thank you Mrs.
- You must think I'm an intruder. -Tell
me at least your reason for being here.
My poor husband died
almost one year ago.
In very dramatic circumstances.
- You have my sympathy Mrs but...
- All this is so painful...
You need something.
A glass of water maybe?
A glass of water will be fine.
Thank you Mrs.
I'm feeling better now.
It's very painful
to be a widow, you know.
Do you believe in the hereafter?
- Sorry?
- The hereafter
Survival of the souls.
Since the death of my poor husband
I'm taking part in spiritism seances.
And my husband spoke to me, Mrs.
- He even gave me a message
for Mr Orlac. -A message?
Yes Mrs. My husband said to me:
"Go and see Mr Orlac and tell him
to not trust what belongs to me. "
My husband would possess
something that belongs to yours?
It's what I deduced from his words.
You will give him
the message, won't you?
- Of course but...
- Thank you Mrs.
A moment. You
didn't tell me your name.
Unfortunately it's not
an easy name to bear.
My husband's name was
Vasseur, Louis Vasseur.
Good bye Mrs.
You never met before then? Stephen
Orlac. Graham Coates, the sculptor.
Mr Coates.
I'm very pleased to meet you Mr Orlac.
Unfortunately I missed your recital.
I think I just put my foot in it.
That's the least you can say.
I was in Edinburgh.
I came back this morning by plane.
You didn't miss much.
My recital was a gigantic flop.
Let's call it a recital
without a piano player.
I'm sorry. Anyway.
Here what I wanted to ask you.
Your hands.
My hands?
Yes.
I won't ask you to model
for me. You can relax.
I would just like to take
pictures of your hands.
And make molds from them.
- I don't understand very well...
- I'm working on a big project.
Jesus resurrecting Lazarus.
And the central motif of the
statue are the hands.
The hands of Lazarus
getting out of the tomb.
He's stretching his
hands towards Christus.
Like this.
Jesus takes Lazarus hands
like that.
Rise Lazarus!
In the background Thomas.
Thomas unbelieving and the holy women.
Lazarus is not seen, only his hands.
His hands.
You must understand me Mr Orlac.
I'd like to put in these hands all the things
that can be put in the hands of a ressurected man.
All the things that are in your
hands Mr Orlac!
No! No! No! Go to hell!
- What are you doing here?
- I'm sorry.
But Louise asked me to wait for you.
- Where is she?
- Cigarette?
No thanks.
So, Louise?.
What do you think of my cigarette case?
Gift from a patient.
I'm spoiled, don't you think?
My turn to be spoiled. Tell me what
kind of service Louise asked from you?
You don't have to worry about anything.
- She's not ill at least?
- Ill would not be exact.
Only exhausted.
Her nerves have particularly
been put to the test lately.
- You're hiding something from me.
- On the contrary.
To be very honest with you I've decided
that she would have a complete check-up.
She will stay during 24 hours
at the Marlboro clinic
to be definitively relieved
of the usual paper work.
It's unbelievable!
You could have warned me.
But you were not at your home.
You were absent all day long.
Which, to say the least,
didn't improve in any
way Louise's nervosity.
You're right.
- When will she be back?
- Tomorrow.
As soon as all these boring but
necessary formalities will be over.
- And if I went to see her?
- Absolutely not.
I want her to stay completely
relaxed during the tests.
Louise is still my wife.
Yes but she's also my goddaughter.
Take a cigarette please.
- Thank you but I almost
stopped smoking. -You're wrong.
As a Doctor I'm against nicotine
but it must be said that in certain
cases it's a good sedative.
Listen Doctor!
You're Louise's uncle and also
her godfather, it's understood,
but it doesn't give you the right
to dispose of our lives as you please.
You send my wife to the hospital.
You prescribe sedatives to me.
Tell me how much I owe you for the
consultation and let's say good bye.
- I find you rather agressive, my dear.
- From which side comes the agression?
Do you want to carry
the case to the U.N.O.?
Disunited families will be
more appropriate.
I regret the path our
conversation has taken.
- I'm leaving.
- I'm not holding you.
Silly me.
I forgot my case on the table.
Thank you.
- Good bye.
- Good bye.
Hello? Marlboro Clinic?
Is Mrs Orlac one of your patient?
Mrs Louise Orlac.
She's not in your clinic?
I see.
Thank you.
Please. I absolutely
must see Dr Volcek.
Alas, dear lady...
Look.
I am Louis Vasseur!
Give my hands back!
Volcek is a real genius.
Volcek gave you my hands
but he gave me my head!
Admit that I frightened you Mr Orlac.
Neron.
Now I understand everything.
What are you doing in my home?
Get out!
Not so fast dear Mr Orlac.
I'm visting you out of charity.
I simply wanted to warn you.
Do you know that the sweet Mrs Orlac and her
kind godfather want to put you in the asylum?
I told you to get out.
Go before I kill you.
You already murdered Beethoven.
It's enough.
What do you want from me?
Money?
A blackmailer, that's
what you are, right?
A music teacher would have been
more useful to you
but don't worry your wife and her
godfather sure know their tune.
You will end up in
the asylum poor Stephen.
Meanwhile I give you your keys.
And I leave you with your
strangler's hands.
Good night maestro.
- So, did you miss me?
- Where were you?
- My godfather didn't tell you?
- Sure.
I hope you're in perfect health
after this medical check-up.
Stephen!
Yes, Stephen.
The same man who autographed this
picture for you a long time ago.
- Why did you tear it up? -Who did this?
It's not me. It's a crazy story.
Yes.
A crazy story.
And I'm the crazy one.
My hands disgust you, don't they?
How can you imagine such a thing?
It's not you?
- So it can only be Neron.
- Neron?
No, I'm not mad.
That guy's name is really Neron.
I met him in Marseilles.
Now he's here in London.
I'm fed up by these
rehearsals every afternoon.
Be patient darling.
Soon we'll be rich.
- Thanks to these hands.
- Or in jail.
If you think I like that, posing
as a widow, stealing the keys.
Instead of Mrs Orlac you would have prefer
to visit her husband, I know. Ah, these hands!
Orlac's hands.
You'd like to feel them on
your skin. And mine?
You push them back.
Orlac will pay for that. In cash.
- His and his wife's fortune, I'll have both.
- Anyway I'm fed up. I don't need you anymore.
I can earn my life alone.
Earn your life?
With a nice scar in the
middle of your little mug?
Now you're warned.
I need Orlac's millions.
To be able to say bugger off
to Felix and people like him.
Felix speaking.
- Bugger...
- Neron. On stage at once.
Yes Mr Felix.
At your orders Mr Felix.
We rarely see you in our
offices Doctor.
Fortunately. Scotland Yard
is like Heaven.
Everybody talks about it but
nobody rushes off to pay a visit.
What crime did you commit?
Be reassured. I only
kill my patients.
This case is mine
but I'd like for your experts to take
an impression of the fingerprints on it.
- Yours, Doctor?
- No.
And I'd prefer if you kept
them anonymous for now.
My dear friend, how are your
relationships with the french police?
Very good.
Meaning that our cordial
disagreement continues. Why?
Do you think it's possible for you
to obtain from the french autorities
the criminal's dossier of a man
named Vasseur, Louis Vasseur?
Vasseur, the Parisian strangler?
He was guillotined
almost a year ago.
- That's the point.
- Tell me Dr...
Don't you think you should
see a psychiatrist?
- You're a reporter?
- Yes, that's it...
- I can hide in a corner if you prefer.
- Mr Felix love reporters.
Especially when they're beautiful like you.
- He's on stage. I will tell him later.
- I'm not in a hurry. Thank you.
- I'd like to take a closer look. How can I get on stage?
- Through the small door there.
Hey Miss!
So, my number? It's smoking, huh?
Sure but the smoke makes me cough.
We need to talk, man.
Can you leave us alone
please, Miss Li-Lang?
Oh, damn!
- Am I disturbing you Mrs Vasseur?
- You?
- You're wrong Mrs. My name is
not Vasseur. -I can't say I'm surprised.
Go away!
- Visits are not allowed backstage.
- Neither are they at my home. I'm only being polite returning your call.
It must be a mistake. We never met before.
Maybe in another world then
since you believe in the Hereafter.
Here is the proof
that gives me reason.
I'm taking back the hands of my
husband if you agree.
Listen Mrs Orlac.
If you want I can help you.
- Really? -I keep my mouth shut
since I met Neron years ago.
- Because he frightens me.
- Why are you his accomplice then?
It's him who made up all that story.
He never met Vasseur of course.
But it became more than a blackmail
for him, now it's a diabolical game.
Why choosing us?
You're rich and your
husband is famous.
Neron is jealous like crazy.
He's a monster.
I'm at his mercy.
We could squeeze one of
Li-Lang's dances.
No, Li-Lang is a beautiful girl.
And there's never enough
cheap thrills in our trade.
But your cheap old tricks are not
entertaining anyone nowadays.
The audience prefer your partner's
sexy waist to your conjuring tricks.
I see.
- What can I do? -I give you the
opportunity to escape from Neron.
Change sides, help us and you
will be the winner at the end.
He will kill me Mrs Orlac.
Or let's make a deal. If you want me to
talk you must have me protected by police.
Agreed.
Thank you.
In the end you're
a nice girl Li-Lang.
Mr Orlac will be very grateful to you.
You think so?
What's that noise?
You should go now.
He could come back any minute now.
- I'm going to Scotland Yard immediately.
- Hurry up. I have a bad feeling.
Take the door on your right
at the corridor's end.
You changed perfume?
I do that sometimes.
Maybe its name is Love
or maybe it's the same Faithful?
- What did Felix tell you?
- He prefer your heels to my talent.
- Even if mine is unbreakable.
- You mean it breaks nothing.
- You want me to cut it short?
- You would do that? -Maybe
but there's nothing much
left to cut except you.
- What are you going to do then?
- I have an idea.
The audience will have its share
of cheap thrills this time.
- You could let me know at least.
- Who lives will see.
It's just a way of speech.
Hello?
Here it's Wagram-27-80.
I give you my number Mr Orlac
before you hang off the telephone.
But you will call me later Mr Orlac.
You will call your friend
Neron to learn more.
And you want to learn more, aren't you?
- Hello?
- What do you have to say?
- Let's end this now.
- Of course.
I knew you'd call back.
Your wife persuaded the right people.
It's for tonight Mr Orlac.
If you don't react now you'll
wake up in an asylum tomorrow.
Forewarned is forearmed.
To whom belong the fingerprints
taken from your case?
- I'd rather... -They are Stephen
Orlac's fingerprints, aren't they?
Since you know...
Mrs Orlac is your niece I believe?
- My goddaughter too.
- She's just out of here.
Louise?
Inspector Geller, explain
to Mr Decrochance.
I've received your
niece ten minutes ago.
She was over-excited.
She talked to me about a stage
magician named Neron.
Her story sounded
rather incoherent at first.
Then I thought about it and talked
with ther Superlntendant.
I deduced that this guy Neron
had to be interrogated.
And tonight.
Stephen Orlac is in a very
serious psychological condition.
We have to neutralize his morbid inhibitions,
to save him from himself before it's too late.
It's you the psychiatrist, Doctor.
- You're in the best place to do that.
- Comparing his fingerprints
with Vasseur's we could have given
him the definitive proof that
his hands and the stangler's hands
have nothing in common.
Excellent idea but unfortunately
here is Interpol's answer.
But this message is very important.
We have to warn my niece at once.
Hello?
It's you godfather?
I'm happy to hear you.
I tried to call you too.
Scotland Yard?
I'm back from there.
Yes, I told them.
But I think they didn't believe me.
So they're going to do something
at last? It's not too soon.
Yes he's a devilish guy.
He must be closed at once.
He must be stopped from doing evil.
So it was true?
Hello? Hello? Louise?
The line has been cut.
Get the car ready, quick.
It's me. Open the door.
Where is Louise?
Louise, what happened?
He could have killed me but he
didn't do it. He didn't do it.
Stephen loves me, he loves
me as much as before.
Where is Stephen?
He killed her!
Let's go!
My wife! I almost
killed her because of you!
Break the door.
Come on, get him away.
It wasn't very polite from you leaving so suddenly
earlier but I still have something to tell you.
I'm following you.
You must learn now
what I have to tell you.
I'm not under arrest?
By the devil, for what reason?
My hands...
I'm not their master anymore.
Here, Mr Orlac. Read this.
Louis Vasseur's criminal record
could not be sent to us
because french authorities have
decide to re-open the case.
To rehabilitate him, Mr Orlac.
Another man has confessed the crime
for which Vasseur paid the hard way.
- He was innocent.
- Louis Vasseur...
innocent.
Yes, his hands were pure.