Seven Thieves

- Look at this, Mr. Wilkins. - Look at this too.

Oh, wonderful, mademoiselle. Wonderful.

You know, a very fine example of the solarudae family.

Looks like a plain, everyday snail to me.

Paul! Oh, I'm sorry, my boy. I meant to meet you at the hotel.

"Hotel's" an elegant word for it.

Yes, true, but the food is edible.

Oh, Mademoiselle Claire, Monsieur Sandy, this is my very dear friend Paul.

Hello.

You know, long, long ago, we also used to collect seashells.

- Here? - Oh, no, no, no.

Far away on Cape Cod, in America.

Do you still collect seashells, Monsieur Paul?

Not lately.

Well, until tomorrow. Good-bye.

- Hello there, Paul. - Hello, Theo.

- How are you? - Four years older.

Four years more than I can afford. Sit down.

Why'd you send me the plane ticket, Theo?

Well, I thought you might enjoy a change, a rest.

I just finished resting for three years, remember?

Yes, I remember.

I wanted to see you again.

- I don't believe that. - Why not?

An old man should have the occasional privilege of gratifying himself.

I have very few friends.

Nobody closer than you. You know that, don't you, Paul?

Mm-hmm. Why'd you send me the plane ticket?

What's happened to you?

You used to have those treasured gifts... patience, silence.

I lost them resting.

Well? Oh, I get it.

In other words, I'm supposed to shut up and wait and see. Right?

In other words, please.

How 'bout a drink to our reunion?

Come on.

There.

Messieurs?

Merci.

Do you have any ice?

Naturally, monsieur. We have a large American clientele.

Un chocolat et un whiskey and soda, with ice.

Un chocolat, whiskey soda with ice. Bien, monsieur.

Now, an international axiom.

A man who says "whiskey" is an Englishman.

A man who says "double whiskey" is an Irishman.

But the man who asks, "Have you any ice?" Is an American.

What about the man who says, "chocolat"?

Me?

A disowned Einstein.

A man kicked out of his seat of higher learning into the gutter.

Well, let's not indulge ourselves.

Yes, you're right.

But it still hurts a little when I sit down.

Here we are.

- Do you know them? - Who?

"Who?" The beatnik and his dressed-for-the-occasion girlfriend.

Oh, they're usually together.

All right. Come on, Theo. Give.

Things aren't that simple. I want to prepare you, lead you into it.

I haven't got time to be lead. I'm down to my last five dollars worth of francs.

It doesn't matter. Things are gonna be different now.

Believe me, Paul, there's no reason for you to feel depressed.

Why should I feel depressed, huh? Why?

Any day now the French police are gonna look in my past...

and find out I just finished a three-year vacation, and I'm in town on your charity.

- Why should I feel depressed? - You've just been unlucky, that's all.

But that's all over with. You know what they say about luck.

- I know. I've heard it before. - But it bears repetition.

It grows like apples on trees.

If your reach is long enough, it's there to be plucked.

- That's right. - I know it's right.

You sang me the same song in New York. You sang it in London, Cambridge and Tangier.

Yes, but only this time, our reach will be precisely right.

Can I ask you one question, please?

Why? Why did you send for me?

Will you wait? Wait just a few more hours, please.

- What did you bring me here to be looked over for?

Forgive me, Paul, but they insisted on seeing you for themselves.

Look, do me a favor. Just lend me enough money for a ticket home.

I can't.

I've saved and scraped for years.

Every franc that I put together and what the others have added is spoken for.

Those two?

And three others.

Join me, Paul. I'm surrounded by strangers.

I need one friendly face.

- To your stay. - No, no, no.

Let's just say, "From one friendly face to another."

For now.

- The usual, Doctor? - Yes, thank you, Adolph.

Oh, and, uh, whiskey and soda with ice.

- Oui, monsieur. - I see they all know you here, Doctor.

More important, I know them.

Look around you, Paul.

You're in the temple of Midas, the holy of holies.

See all the worshippers of the golden calf.

Everybody's rich, but they want to get richer.

Even as you and I.

Would it stagger you to know how much money passes across these tables?

Anything over five bucks would stagger me right now.

Just think of it, Paul. Whose money is it? Where does it come from?

Tax-deductible expenses.

Excess dividends. Rents paid to absentee landlords.

Oil money to men who never got a fingernail dirty...

who became rich on the sweat of...

Ah, ah, ah, ah. You're overdoing it.

Oh, yes, a little.

- Nobody forces them to gamble. - No, not physical force.

But the casino preys on human weaknesses.

Midas has to be fed with money.

He has an insatiable stomach.

You know where this golden stomach is kept?

Mm-mmm. And I don't wanna know.

Two floors below, in the vaults.

You stop talking like a lunatic.

You know, there's a philosophical viewpoint to all this.

Casinos, bawdy houses, insurance companies...

suffer from the same injustice...

Whenever anything happens to them, who ever shows pity?

I don't know, but I don't want to stick around to find out.

Not even for one-seventh of four million dollars?

One-seventh of four million dollars?

Oh, stop dreaming.

I mean, it can't be done.

Yes, Paul, it can. I tell you, it can.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no.

Yes, Paul, yes.

Think of all those doors at home that will swing open for you. Money will do it.

Will you forget it?

I've done things that got me in trouble in the past, but I'm not a professional thief.

Please, don't even suggest such a thing.

Then why are you acting like Alice in Wonderland? I mean, what is all this?

This is strictly legal?

It's a piratical exploit.

Yes, precisely that.

A dramatically unique venture in piracy.

Look, I don't care what you call it. It can't be done.

I tell you...

I've planned this as I would a chemical experiment.

For years, I've known it couldn't happen without the proper ingredients...

the right temperature, the right spark to set it off.

But now, suddenly...

all the conditions are right.

With a little daring, the experiment can be made to work.

No dice. I pass.

No, please, please, Paul. Don't refuse me.

You are the man I need, my vital ingredient.

- Why me? - Well, I can trust you.

Without you to lean on, I can't afford to risk all those strangers.

I'm too old to stop them from freezing me out.

You want that ticket back home?

How many strings attached?

My boy, when will you stop suspecting my motives?

When you stop conniving.

How many strings?

We'll go back to Cannes.

At midnight, after you've heard me out...

you still hold to your opinion about the insanity of this experiment...

the ticket is yours.

- No other strings? - None.

And no hard feelings.

Either way, my boy...

my affection for you will never change.

To midnight.

- It's vinegar. - Yes, but with bubbles.

- Well, I think I'll try the whiskey. - They water it.

This is a fine spot to have a talk.

It's 10 after 10:00, Theo.

You know, you make things very difficult, my boy.

- I can feel your antagonism. - It's not antagonism. It's caution.

I cannot understand why you're so hell-bent on doing this thing.

I mean, is it money, or you wanna be rich in your old age?

You know me better than that.

Paul, I have to accomplish something before I die.

I want to make the world gasp a little.

I want to finally put the cork on the bottle. Can you understand that?

There must be some other way. You can always go back and work in your own field.

Under what name? Who wants to hire a scientist called thief, an ex-convict?

Once you're labeled, it sticks for life.

Move over, my friend. Make way for my label.

That's why you should understand.

There's only this last experiment, this last chance for me.

They're all here now, aren't they?

The last one is just sitting down.

What's he staring at?

Nothing yet.

He's anticipating.

I've seen that anticipation on faces...

in every backstreet...

- That's the one this afternoon. - Yes.

Who's he?

Raymond LeMay...

executive secretary to the director of the casino.

She's not exactly his society.

Where'd you find her?

Pancho, the saxophone player.

He brought her here from London some years ago.

- His mistress? - Of course not.

Oh, no. Of course not.