Monsieur Spade

Papa said he was being paid to take care of him.

After leaving the boy at the convent,

did Philippe tell you where he was going next?

The boy? They want the boy.

You must be drunk if you think

I'm just going to hand over the vineyard to you.

If I want you dead, I just have to wait.

Someone's in the house.

Woman: Whoo-hoo!

Shh.

The other one jumped out the window, but I winged him.

You okay?

I was about to shoot this one, too,

but I thought that wouldn't be in our best interest.

At least not until we get information from him.

Not to mention you might have hit me instead.

Impossible. I'm a dead shot.

What are you doing here?

I was asking you.

Oh, you told me to keep an eye on Teresa.

Yeah, when I'm not around.

Well, lucky thing I was here, no?

Hard to say. I'm not used to that kind of luck.

Ah, French Army.

A real soldier wouldn't try to kidnap a young girl.

Who are you calling a young girl?

You all right?

Yes, thanks to Henri.

Henri, do me a favor and go upstairs.

Go upstairs and do what?Just go upstairs.

Right.

And take the women with you.

Henri, leave the gun, please.

How's your neck?

How's yours?

Another time, another place, a man tried to kill me,

I would've shot him or thrown him out of a window

and forgotten he ever existed.

But I'm older now.

And mostly wiser.

Do you have a name?

Didn't think so.

Are you a Dean Martin fan?

I figure that you've been well-trained

and won't be easily persuaded to talk,

but I'm gonna ask you some questions, anyway.

Easy questions. And every time you don't answer

or say, "Je sais pas,"

I'm gonna kick you in the head.

You know? Like the song?

And then answer the question myself.

Sound good?

Off we go.

So I don't have to be J. Edgar Hoover

to guess that you're army intelligence

and that your employers at SDECE --

Did I pronounce that right?

That's always been a hard one for me.

Where was I? Oh, yeah. SDECE, army intelligence,

the outfit that you work for,

who I'm assuming, like everyone else in the known universe,

is angry with Philippe Saint-Andre

for stealing something,

or, in this case, someone, he was ordered to protect.

No, that wasn't a question.

But Sergeant Saint-Andre does work for SDECE, doesn't he?

That wasa question, and the answer is...

But he went rogue.

So did you and your pal drop by tonight

to see if the girl could tell you where the kid is?

Because the original likely plan

was that Sergeant Saint-Andre was to deliver the kid

to the big boys in Paris.

I'm on a hot streak, but now for the million-franc question.

What is so important about this little kid

that everyone is willing to murder nuns

or kidnap young girls in order to get their hands on him?

I don't know.

Orders were come and search,

and if the boy wasn't there, to take the girl.

But you came dressed for war,

all gunned up like you thought you might get into a firefight.

You have a reputation.

I'm flattered, but...

Please, stop doing that.

I will if you stop talking bullshit.

You thought Philippe might be here.

For good reason.

Do you know what Saint-Andre did in Algeria?

He was with a sniper unit.

A secret spy unit.

Saint-Andre hunted down members of Organisation Armée Secrète.

Yes. And assassinated them.

He had over 30 kills.

Still, that tells me nothing as to why everyone,

from the Vatican, to French intelligence, to the CIA,

is after this kid.

All I know is what I have heard whispered.

Okay, then whisper it to me.

That the boy is the hub of a many-spoked wheel.

That sounds like something you'd read in a fortune cookie.

It's all I've heard.

I swear on my mother's life.

Okay.

You can go now and meet your pal,

who's probably outside somewhere,

bleeding on my grapes.

Really? I can go?

You tell whoever gave you this shit detail

that I would like to find the good sergeant

as much as they would,

if for no other reason than the bata

has spoiled my fucking tranquility,

and that when I find Philippe -- and I will find him --

I will talk to him, and then I will bundle him up in a carpet

and send him up to Paris for you guys

to do whatever you want with.

But in the meantime, if I catch any more armed men

in their jammies sneaking about my property,

I will shoot them in the balls.

I wasn't lying before.

We know who you are.

You say that as if I'm hiding.

You have many enemies.

Okay, so I'm sending you away

with a few dents in your face after you tried to kill me,

and now you wanna stand there and threaten me?

My good friend, you wanna advertise my whereabouts

in the morning Le Monde

or one night on Discorama,be my guest.

But you will find that no one cares about that Sam Spade.

Not anymore.

You tell your bosses we're not enemies.

And they should believe you?

Why?

Get the fuck out of here.

Driver: Marguerite?

Cynthia: George and I had just sat down

to do The Timescryptic

when we heard your man shouting.

You could hear him from your place?

Well, we were in the garden.

The fresh air being part of our daily ritual.

That, and the, uh, mimosas, of course.

Here's a possible theory -- In trying to make his escape,

this chap runs this way and tumbles in.

That's my considered opinion.

Might wanna reconsider that opinion.

The road is the other direction.

No moon last night. Darkness aplenty.

He's not familiar with the terrain, so...

Still, one doesn't die from simply tumbling into the pool.

One does if one can't swim.He was a trained commando.

Who was also bleeding to death.

I only winged him.

His partner didn't escape. I let him go.

I didn't see much point in hanging onto him.

In the same way there wasn't much point

when I saw you this morning in telling me

that two men had tried to kidnap Teresa?

In my experience, the fewer people know

about something like this, the fewer people get hurt.

Your concern for my well-being is most touching.

A difficult shot in daylight.

This was at night, which makes such precision impossible.

Not if one had a night-vision scope,

like the PV-1 Starlight.

That would do the trick.