Only the Cool (La peau de torpedo)

TORPEDO'S SKIN aka PILL OF DEATH

Are you alright? Did you have too much to drink?

That's it, too much to drink.

- He's my husband. - Is he?

- You don't have to comment. - I don't.

He's an antique dealer

- I'm not an antique dealer. Are you? - I'm not either.

- You're what they call a fop, ain't you? - Yes, a fop. A playboy.

- Something of a pimp? - No, absolutely not.

My parents have lots of money.

Do you collect fops?

Do you go at Regine's often?

Alone, never. With my husband, from time to time.

But your husband Is away. Away for long?

I don't know. He was supposed to come back yesterday.

- And he's coming back tomorrow? - I don't know.

Careful. It's straight.

So, since you're furious, you decided to get drunk...

and bring a fop back home. Is that it?

- Do you really want to make him jealous? - Shut up.

I don't like threesomes.

You're going to go now!

I'm asking you to.

You're going to get the hell out of here right now, do you hear?

Yes. I'll leave the two of you alone.

Get out! Now! Do you hear me? Now!

- Don't you want to leave your things? - It's a quirk, you know.

Oh, no. No, don't put the light on.

I must be a mess. Don't look at me.

Stay another five minutes.

From now on, you'll have to be very composed.

Yes.

Nothing will have disappeared. Nothing will have been forced.

Tomorrow, you'll go to your office as usual.

- You'll do your job as usual. - Yes.

That's good.

Come to think of it, you're a bad boy.

No, I'm not. This is the first and last time that I do this.

- And are you sure you're doing It for me? - For you and for me.

- Because you love me? - Yes, because I love you.

- Won'! You get It wrong? - No.

This is my table. The key is in the right-hand drawer.

I know.

- Are you cleaning up? - You know I like order.

Don't be afraid. I'll be here the day after tomorrow, with the money.

- Yes. Will you think about me? - Of course.

Secretariat.

Direction of Research.

- Yes? - It's me. Everything's fine.

Yes, very well. Listen, you have to do something.

You must go and fetch something I hid under the bridge.

- Under the bridge... - Yes.

- Yes. - I don't want to take that with me.

You'll understand.

I tell you that you'll understand. Yes, I'm off to Paris.

The day after tomorrow.

I'll be here the day after tomorrow.

Do as I tell you, right now.

- Nicolas, I love you. - So do I, kid.

Thank you.

No, thank you.

Go on, shoot!

Francoise! Phone call!

Yes. I was waiting for your call.

Well... no, I'm a little tired.

Today, I'm going on holidays. Three or four days.

Yes, it's absolutely necessary.

Oh, by the way,

your janitor says you must go to the post-office as soon as possible.

Something about a parking ticket, I think.

- A letter for you. - Thank you.

Towers of Notre-Dame, 15h30, Francoise.

There's an alert and the network is in security retreat mode.

- Héléne orders to sever all contacts. - What about me?

You must vanish.

Vanish in what hole? Not my place, I guess.

No. Mine. I've been living in the Rue Massillon for four days.

It's very close from here You must wait for Hélene's orders there.

Alright. No news is good news.

I beg your pardon?

Nothing. Just thinking about my wife.

Right now, I'm In Florence, appraising Renaissance bronzes.

I should have been home yesterday.

You'll tell your wife that the flu kept you in a hotel in Florence.

Yes. I needed that. Let's go.

- I already moved six times this year. - Do you have fun being a letter box?

- It would be too long a story. - I'm not asking you to tell it.

I'm sick of it. Do you hear? Sick.

If you're not here tomorrow, I swear I'll sleep with some bloke.

Any bloke.

- Do you like It? - It's nice, as far as cells go.

Where shall I sleep?

- This is a bed. - What about you?

- It's a double bed, isn't it? - Yes, it is.

- Do you allow me to put my flu to bed? - I can even buy you rum and aspirin.

If you have something to hide in the flat, do it while I'm out.

- How much? - Almost 39°.

Drink your rum toddy.

- May I tell you something unpleasant? - Yes, go on.

- If I were Helene, I wouldn't use you. - Oh? Why?

Because you're a... narcissist.

All those pictures are a bad sign.

I'll post twice as many on the walls tomorrow.

- To make It look even worse? - No, lo prove I like a challenge.

- That's a woman's reaction. - Are you a misogynist?

If I were, I wouldn't obey a woman's orders.

You would obey anyway, since you chose our profession.

It's not a profession. It's a belief.

Héléne is not a woman anyway.

- What about me? - You, I don't know.

Appearances are against you, in any case.

- Goodnight, Nick. - Good night, Francoise.

Don't worry. You're safe here.

I'm just a little letter box of no consequence.

Very safe, very airtight.

With no importance whatsoever.

It's a copy, isn't it?

No, madam, mister Krestowitz never sells copies.

- Heavily restored. - No, madam.

The canvas was changed, of course, but that's all.

Obviously, It would be necessary to inspect the nails.

But I assure you this arm, here, was restored with putty.

- No, madam, this is dried veneer. - Oh? Do you really think so?

I'm sure of it, madam.

- And what is the price? - One million!

What?

One million including the new canvas,

the veneer, the putty, the nails, the restoration.

And when you sit on it, it shatters! Are you interested? One million!

- But... but... it's im... - Yes, madam, it's possible.

You're not interested? Goodbye, madam!

- But this is insane! - Yes, it's insane.

- You're a madwoman. - Yes, madam.

Mister Krestowicz never sells copies but he lets his wife down.

- So you don't have any news? - Of course not.

No phone call? Not even a letter?

You know perfectly well that he never writes.

Not to me, he doesn't. To you, maybe.

Do you like being his accessory?

- Accessory to what? - His affairs. His escapes. His loves.

- You're exaggerating, really. - Yes, of course, I exaggerate.

Do you think it normal that a husband...

doesn't call his wife when he's 48 hours late?

Come on, you know he never calls when he's traveling. You're used to it.

I'm getting unused fast.

Personally, you see, I think that Mr. Nicolas...

is on a good deal. On a trail.

He's sniffing a couple of things, he smells, he follows,

and nothing exists for him anymore. - What if the object is a woman?

- Oh, really, no! - How do you know?

- I don't, obviously... - Well, shut up, then!

- Did Héléne tell you to stay home? - As much as possible.

My orders are to play possum in your company.

For a routine alert, the penalty is four days in reclusion.

Eggs, sardines, yogurts, jam and continental toasts.

- Are you hungry? - No, thank you.

- Your turn. - Oh, I'm fed up, excuse-me.

Yes, yes.

I don't want to go home. May I sleep here?

Of course you can sleep here.

Sometimes I wonder why I'm his wife.

- Is It the first time he's done this? - What?

- Not letting you know anything. - No.

He travels. He disappears. I married a distraught.

- Didn't you tell me he was In Italy? - Yes.

- He'll be here tomorrow or the day after. - I don't care. I'm sick of it.

- Cheat on him. - I try, but it's pathetic.

- Do you cheat on Christian? - Sometimes.

- Yes, I'm sick of It. - No, you're jealous.

Well, yes I am jealous I'm very jealous.

Believe It or not, I think it's normal when you love a man.

- Do you think it's monstrous? - I don't. Not at all.

- Maybe he had an accident. - They never have accidents.

- I'll make your bed. - No, don't bother. I'll sleep with you.

As you wish. We'll cry together.

- Hello, Percy? - Good morning, madam.

No, madam, no news from him, absolutely nothing.

- I'm so sorry. - Alright, thank you.

Yes, see you soon.

Nothing!

- Did you have tea? - No.

- Did you sleep well? - Very badly.

If you take sleeping pills and waking up tablets,

you're going to ruin your nerves.

If you're sorry you let me stay, just say so.

Gee, if you take it that way, screw you, Dominique.

Screw you too.

Screw all of you, him, you, your ugly pooch, all of you!

Of all the... Do you hear, Merlin?

Just because madam's husband cheats on her...

with a fat chick he picked-up in the street,

she says you're ugly. Poor Merlin.

- What are you saying? - Me? Nothing.

Talk, Laurence.

- You're going to talk or... - Alright, alright... I'll talk.

Calm down, honey.

As I was saying, I met Nick the day before yesterday, in Paris,

with a... well, a woman on his arm.

I followed them due to silly curiosity and that's it.

Rue Massillon, 8, 3rd floor.