Negresco (Negresco - Eine tödliche Affäre)

My profession: Photographer If I had only stayed with it.

Always had jobs. Made ends meet, somehow. Fashion, advertising…

Did everything that paid.

Spice it up, girls. Not so boring.

Money has always been my problem. Money and women.

I've had enough women, and yet not enough.

And money? Well, I've always had just small change in my hands.

I wanted to get to the big money, to the large bills.

This doesn't give it to me, not at all.

You're driving me mad. Come on.

Yes, finally.

I had one of those usual jobs: Three girls in a wind tunnel, hippie colours.

I started shooting, disliking what I was doing.

But that was the beginning. I have always shot with just the camera, I swear.

And your murder weapon… shove it up your arse. It doesn't belong to me.

Do you want to sell this prancing to the shareholders of Glanzstoff-Werke?

You requested something lively for the old men to wake up.

They sell fabrics. They don't want to see breasts, but their own products.

In short: the same old rubbish as ever.

- What you do is old hat. - Too bad. So you employed the wrong man.

- I'm realising that, too. - Then I can go.

- But you're paying the day anyway. - Don't worry.

You can pick up your money this afternoon.

Apparently, our photographic-models aren't good enough for you.

I don't know what you're talking about.

- About her. She's barefoot up to her neck. - You better forget about these photos.

- Because that is Laura Parrish? - That's none of your business.

She's certainly showing off.

I never thought that anyone here would know Laura Parrish.

Wouldn't you have hung the pictures otherwise? Why not?

Frankly… because it's too dangerous. They are private pictures.

- Did she want to seduce her husband? - Hardly. And it's none of your business.

A millionaire's half-naked wife is always intriguing.

Don't get your hopes. You'll have no luck with her.

What others achieve, I will achieve all the more.

If I may give you some advice: don't do anything stupid, having seen these pictures.

That's a matter of honour. If I get my money this afternoon…

I'm calling this off. It was a misunderstanding.

I'll do the shooting myself. Get out of that storm, girls.

I thought you'd be hanging around here. I'd like to tap your good memory.

By the way, you still owe me a thousand marks.

What do you want to know?

Tell me everything you know about Mr. Parrish and his wife Laura.

They're filthy rich.

I know that. How did they get there? Perhaps I can get involved.

Listen, Parrish is a very dangerous man of honour. He holds the world record in this field.

And if I snag his wife?

The gentleman will not voluntarily give away anything he once bought himself.

Too bad.

- That's how things are. - You couldn't connect with her anyway.

Well, it was just an idea.

It was a stupid idea. But you've got to try to exploit anything.

And if it won't work, it won't work.

I went back to Berlinger's studio to pick up my day's pay. I wouldn't let him keep it.

But Berlinger wasn't able to pay out money anymore.

Something unexpected had happened.

Berlinger was dead. Shot.

And the photos of Laura Parrish were gone.

"The shots are dangerous", Berlinger had said.

He was wrong. They were deadly.

It's already 9 o'clock. Don't you have to get out today, or have you overslept?

It's alright. I've got nothing to do today, and so I'm sleeping in.

- Again? - I've only toiled yesterday. All day.

Should I have gone to the police? Of course I should have.

But at that time, I thought "Are you insane?"

You know how the coppers are:

There's a body, and someone who allegedly found him, etc…

Well, and then Delloo called the next morning:

I was supposed to fly to London with him.

To do some coverage on wild strikes.

And so I had an opportunity to disappear.

What should I have told the police?

Some wild story of disappeared bosom pictures of an international business man's wife?

They would be suspicious.

And learning I had flown out, they'd have their suspect.

They never catch the real perpetrators anyway.

Admittedly, everything looks even more suspect now.

Come on, hurry up. The plane is not waiting. Swinging London with strikes.

- I'll do it. - Bring the luggage to the taxi.

Berlinger had said I wouldn't get to her anyway.

As I saw her there, it suddenly hit me. Delloo flew off without me.

Now I wanted to find out.

- Where to, please? - To the Hilton.

What impudence. What is this?

- We know each other. - Isn't that a little unimaginative?

I have imagination.

My plane just flew to London.

You're mad.

- Your husband has called twice, Mrs. Parrish. - Did he leave a message?

- He'll be here tonight. Mr. Parrish arrives from Zurich.

Hilton Hotel, reception. Yes, ma'am, he is already here…

The man in the lift was Charly.

I did not know him then, of course, but I should see him again.

I was damn naive.

I've always underestimated Parrish. Charly is one of his men.

I didn't seem to be mistaken about Laura. She was the type who participates.

Very pleasant here.

What do you want from me?

I don't know exactly. I don't know you well enough yet.

Do you want an interview?

Tell me, what's your first name?

- Are you American? - No, my husband is American.

I'd like photograph you some time.

Pity.

- Reception. - Parrish. Is my wife already in the hotel?

- Your wife arrived two hours ago, Mr. Parrish. - The operator said she had gone out.

- Really? But I didn't see Mrs. Parrish go away. - Has she left her room key?

No, Mrs. Parrish has not left the key.

- Call through again, will you? - I certainly will, just a second.

- They're really persistent. - Why so nervous? Don't worry.

- 20, no. - No, no. It's 12.

Do you cheat on your husband often?

No. I'd say: sometimes.

Won't he come up here?

- I like that. - Now what about London?

Let's not talk about it. The chance is missed.

- Mrs. Parrish, your husband tried several times to reach you. - Yes, I know.

Your taxi is waiting outside.

Unpunctual as always.

I see the affair was good for you. You gained from it.

Berlinger is dead.

This happens to people who know too much: they die prematurely.

I want a divorce.

Yet again?

I principally keep what I possess.

You know that.

I can't go along anymore. It's over.

Why so vigorously?

A pity that you do not take me seriously. You have to relearn.

- I'll take another whiskey, how about you? - I'm leaving. - Stay where you are.

Believe me, your fear is reasonable.

- I could kill him. - But he loves you.

- Parrish loves only money. - I immediately book our flights.

Not from here. We mustn't leave a trace.

Aren't you exaggerating?

Believe me, I know him better than you. Aren't you afraid?

Well, alright. We'll meet at the airport. - Yes, darling, hurry up.

It was very foolish of you.

Mr. Parrish is very annoyed about your departure, as you can imagine.

- Leave me alone, Charly. - Why this risk?

Call me later.

- What did that fat fellow want from you? - Why? I don't know him at all.

To the Negresco, please.

I used to sleep on the beach down there. Very amusing.

At that time, I swore that I would live in the Negresco one day.

- Now you've done it. - What I want, I get.

You really are certain of yourself.

It is not much. I'll come up with something myself.

Well then, take the rest.

Yes, I think it's enough for a while.

Just before departure, I had called Delloo.

He was really furious. But curious as he is, he said:

"I'll come. Let's see what's the deal with this story."

We had arranged to meet at a bar.

I looked up from the dark vortex of my soul, and was 25,000 ft above the sea-level.

And I knew that I had lived a full life…

- … and many other lives… - Do you need money? I can give you some.

Hello fatty. You're punctual as an egg-timer.

We'll talk later.

I seem to interfere. You were lucky.

What's the name the child?

Not bad, the little one. Is she from London? Or a creature of the Cote d'Azur?

Leave Nadja alone.

- You know each other? - Yes, I'm extremely sorry.

- Get lost. - May I buy you something?

- You have money? - Yes, as I told you. I'm after a big thing.

Impressed, aren't you, fatty. I live in the Negresco.

- Get lost, real quick. - Well, you bore me.

One Pastis for the Monsieur.

Bring him a whole bottle. He'll live like a human being for once.

I think we've planned something else.

And you, don't run away. It won't take long. I'll be right back.

Sleep in peace, my children. Only love is true.

What's the matter with you, my dear brother?

Is it not God's will that you share this wonderful bottle of Pastis with me?

- Why did you drop him so easily? - Never mind.

He was certainly looking forward to this evening. Naturally, he wanted to sleep with you.

- You don't? - Yes, with the greatest pleasure. Just not today.

- Call me when you've got time, will you? - And where?

- Well, in the Negresco. Where else? - Let's see.

Perhaps you'll think of me when you're with Delloo. But don't forget.

Are you insane to call here?

Berlinger could still be alive. Parrish had not given an order.

- You have to do what I tell you. - You lied to me.

- Parrish orders you to come to the Engadin. - Mind how you talk to me.

- Now I don't have any Sous left. - You've got luck in the love.

It is of course not so bad if you still have got money.

Maybe I should also try my luck.

Put on the 6. It will come for certain. Well, do it.

Exactly, everything on the 6.

Actually, we are a good match, in every respect.

- 5 rouge - So this is gone too.

- Loosing money in Nice is wonderful. - Your sense of humour is admirable.

Actually, you have admirable qualities.

Another one.

How is it?

- Looks great. - We're very photogenic.

- He says it's great. - If he says so, it's certainly right.

What?

I don't understand.