The Case of the Bloody Iris

Hello?

It's you. Come up, I'm waiting.

Why those strange drops of blood on Jennifer's body?

Good morning.

My god!

Mrs. Moss, do you know her? I don't think she lives here.

Never seen her before. I'm sure of it.

I've lived here for years and I know more or less everyone.

Do you know her?

No.

I have to go. I have an audition for a show.

If the police want to speak to me, my name's Mizar Kellington, I live in 81.

There's a dead body in the lift!

What do you think of this one? Black, but not too much.

Yes, she's real pretty but what am I supposed to do with her?

What do you need to sell beer?

I don't know, a good brand and a thirsty audience.

No, it has to be embraced by a naked woman.

Jar, bottle, tankard, all here, between the tits.

- But I sell apartments. - So what?

On top of a jet, sitting on a fridge, spread out on the bonnet of a car.

In her hand, a pineapple, a cup of coffee.

Whatever, it doesn't matter.

It takes naked women to sell products.

There must be a swimming pool in your property portfolio.

- Yes, of course. - Great, then you want the black one.

That black girl is as hot as the south seas.

You talk to her, I'll photograph her. 100,000 will do.

Will you hurry up? I'm dying of cold.

Go ahead, but not straight away.

= who's he? Must be a friend of Arthur's.

Pretty.

Them? Not bad, advertising.

Keep the mixed-race one close, listen to an expert.

I'll make you an award-winning flyer with that one, or I'll eat all my film.

Come on, have you finished? =yes.

Excuse me.

- Okay? - Good, good.

Ready?

Let's get to work.

Pose.

Where the hell are you looking?

Here, here.

Pose.

Well? Who wants to try tonight?

A bit of courage, guys.

Mizar's all yours.

You know the rules, three minutes.

And whoever can tame me will have me.

Who wants to try?

Aren't there any real men here, capable of taming a woman?

Come on, show me what you're capable of.

Three minutes and Mizar will be yours.

I'm here, ready to be tamed, if I find a good master.

Your masculinity is at stake, come forward, men.

What? There really isn't anyone?

You. Come here, handsome.

If you can do it, I'll be yours.

- Scared? - I'll come, damn it!

- But if I win I want to collect. - Sure, any way you like.

Come on, let's begin. You have three minutes.

Come on, prove yourself.

Come here, handsome. Come on, try and tame Mizar.

Take me.

Come on.

Stop!

Wait!

Your three minutes are up, no extra time.

Let go of me!

I'll smash your face in!

Let go of me!

Listen, I'd like to get to know her.

Can I get an appointment for later?

That's it, like that. Good.

You know you like it. Beautiful.

Stop. Don't move.

Beautiful. Lovely.

Squeeze it. Caress it.

Hurt it.

Not too much. Let yourself go.

There, like that.

Great.

Lovely.

Look at me.

Don't move.

Everyone has to want that mattress.

To lie on it, with you.

You caress them. You kiss them.

Look at me.

Adam.

Don't move!

What the hell are you doing?

Do you feel sick?

No, it's passed.

With those lights in my eyes, I thought I saw...

Sure, you're just tired.

Throw in the towel, for the little he pays us.

- You're only good at one thing. - What?

- Sorry, I really can't. - Okay, let's call it a day.

That's life.

It's Saturday, I have a date. What a pain!

Bye.

What is it? Don't you like our flowers anymore?

They're the symbol of our group.

One thing made up of different people.

Like this flower is made up of different petals.

You are part of us, and us part of you, Jennifer.

I'm part of the group, and the group is mine.

You don't have any choice now, you belong to us.

You belong to me, since the day I married you.

No, Adam, it's over for good. Please leave me alone.

The others aren't enough for me anymore since you left.

What do you want from me? Love? Possession?

Maybe even jealousy.

No, Adam, I'm still the same person I was before.

It's the only way to free yourself, believe me.

You have to reduce yourself to a thing to be free.

Something that can be taken by everyone, and is no one's slave.

But I can't, Adam.

I feel dirty. It's stronger than me.

Don't you understand? I tried more than once but it's not for me.

I can't go on lying to myself, I don't love you anymore.

Now you're lying. Who are you with? Who is it?

What does he do to you?

Does he pay you?

This will help you remember. You'll be like me again.

You'll come back to me begging on your hands and knees.

Come on, let's begin. You have three minutes.

Come on, prove yourself.

This isn't funny. Who are you?

Untie me! Let me out!

Help!

Help!

Inspector, can we drain the water? I need some shots of her dry.

Of course.

Well, doctor?

She died five or six hours ago but I'll know exactly when after the autopsy.

Yes, but don't tell me she couldn't swim, this already stinks enough.

All we have so far are some mixed up fingerprints.

- Rubber-soled shoes. - It's a start.

Sure, in a city with two million inhabitants...

Who hasn't got a pair of rubber-soled shoes in their wardrobe?

No, there's nothing wrong with the lights.

Someone slipped some cardboard between the bulbs and the sockets.

An ingenious technique.

I also found this.

Great, you've outdone yourself. =whatis it? A lead?

No, it's a Jamaican stamp. The coronation six pence.

Good.

- Is it needed for the investigation? - The stamp?

No, the inspector needs it. He collects them, he's an expert.

Well, kid, what happened?

I was bringing her lunch, like 1 always do.

A ready-made meal.

I found the door open, so...

Yes, yes.

And you? Weren't you the one by the lift?

Yes, that's me. I heard the boy scream, so...

I'm always at home, alone.

You won't believe the pension they give a war widow.

No, but I know how much they give us and I'm already trembling.

Believe me, two murders in twenty four hours is trouble for us.

The newspapers say there's a crime every forty-three seconds.

Is that what they say? Who'd have thought it?

However, they're not all murders, and not all in the same building.

The one in the lift was... How can I put it? A working girl.

She lived on the same street at 106. Those buildings all look alike.

She may also have had a pimp.

The other one, the mixed-race girl, worked in a sort of brothel.

One of those private clubs where they have to pay a membership fee.

I know, the private club. It's a nice little place.

I know the owner.

There isn't much he wouldn't do for money.

What does the autopsy say? No sex, right?

Absolutely not, a stabbing and the other one drowned, no sign of rape.

That's what the report says, at least.

Have a look at that.

This one will never be worth anything in a million years.

I meant the letter, not the stamp.

"My love, you're black as sin and I've got you under my skin"

whoever wrote it isn't all there.

Did you see? It isn't signed. There's a scribble, a kind of 's...

Right.

Have you drawn up a list of all the residents?

An army, almost 700 people, but most only go there to sleep.

No one writes letters to someone living in the same building.

You don't know love then.

But maybe you're right.

It's just that this job keeps getting harder.

You see, people kill for no reason nowadays.

It really has gone badly.

You try finding another hot chick like Mizar.

- But those two... - Two idiots! They got scared.

Listen to me, it's hard renting out a flat where someone was murdered.

People don't forget these things.

Hil = hi!

Hello

well?

Here's the contract, thank him. Father Christmas is real.

Thank you.