Oh! Did you hear something rip?
- No. - Oh. That's odd.
Listen, I-I only came in for an estimate.
Sit still. It's not too bad.
You won't be able to lie on your back for a few days.
- But then, you can lie from any position, can't you? - Oh-ho-ho -
- Ooh! - Does it hurt?
- What? - Does it hurt?
Oh. Are you kidding?
Have you got a bullet I could bite, like they do in the movies?
Are you really Carson Dyle's brother?
Would you like to see my passport?
Passport? What kind of a proof is that?
- Well, would you like to see where I was tattooed? - Yes.
All right. We'll drive around that way.
You could at least tell me what your first name is these days.
Alexander.
Okay, Alexander.
- You're done. - Good.
You're a new man.
I'm sorry the old one couldn't tell you the truth...
but I had to find out your part in all this.
Is there a Mrs. Dyle?
Yes.
But we're divorced.
I thought that was Peter Joshua.
I'm just as difficult to live with as he was.
Alex, how can you tell if anyone's lying or not?
- You can't. - There must be some way.
There's an old riddle about two tribes of Indians.
The Whitefeet always tell the truth, and the Blackfeet always lie.
One day you meet an Indian. You say...
"Hey, Indian, what are you, a truthful Whitefoot or a lying Blackfoot?"
He says, "I'm a truthful Whitefoot. " But which is he?
Why couldn't you just look at his feet?
Because he's wearing moccasins.
Well, then, he's a truthful Whitefoot, of course.
Why not a lying Blackfoot?
- Which one are you? - A truthful Whitefoot.
Come in.
- Sit down. - Why? Do you wanna look at my feet?
Yes.
Uh-oh. Ohh. Hey, knock it off. Come on, Reggie. Listen to me.
Here it comes, the fatherly talk.
- You forget I'm already a widow. - So was Juliet, at 15.
- But I'm not 15. - Well, that's your trouble. You're too old for me.
- Can't you be serious? - Oh! You just said an horrible word.
- What did I say? - Serious.
When I man gets to be my age, that's the last word he ever wants to hear.
I don't want to be serious, and I especially don't want you to be.
Okay, we'll just sit around all day long being frivolous. How about that, hmm?
Reggie, cut it out.
Okay.
- Now what are you doing? - Cutting it out.
- Who told you to do that? - You did.
I'm not through complaining yet.
Oh.
- Now cut it out. - Alex, I think I love you.
Hey, the telephone's ringing.
Never mind.
Whoever it is won't give up, and neither will I.
Just a minute. Go on, take it.
Hello.
I'm sorry, uh - I was just, uh -
nibbling on something.
Say, I'd appreciate it mighty highly...
if you'd, uh, wiggle on over to Room 46 and chew the fat for a spell.
Could you give me one good reason why I should?
Yeah. A little one, about six or seven.
Keeps callin' for Aunt Reggie.
Ain't that cute?
They've got Jean-Louis.
I'll be right there.
Hey, Tex, do somethin' with this kid, will ya? My leg's goin' to sleep.
Upsy-daisy.
Are you a real cowboy?
Yeah, sure I am, kid.
So where's your gun?
Will you put that thing away!
Jean-Louis.
Howdy, Miz Lampert.
Who invited him?
Well, Herman, I see you had a happy landing.
I must call Sylvie right away.
- I'm afraid that'll have to wait, Mrs. Lampert. - It's his mother.
She won't be anybody's mother unless you answer some questions.
- This ain't no game, Miz Lampert. - We want that money now.
Why don't you keep quiet and stop threatening the child.
He hasn't got the money, and neither has Mrs. Lampert.
Then who does?
I don't know, Herman. Maybe you do.
Me?
- Or you. - Ohh.
- Or him. - Why, that's the most ridiculous thing I ever-
- Listen to this man. - Man's gone loco.
Now hold it. Suppose one of you found Charles here in Paris.
Even bumped into him by accident...
followed him when he tried to run out again, cornered him on the train...
threw him out the window and, without bothering to tell the other two...
took all the money for yourself.
If one of us did that, he wouldn't hang around waiting for the other two to figure it out.
But he'd have to. Don't you see? Ifhe left, he'd be admitting his guilt.
Whoever it is has to wait here pretending to look for the money...
waiting for the rest of us to give up and go home.
He's just tryin' to throw us off. They got it, I tell ya.
Why don't we search their rooms?
That's all right with us.
Then what are we wastin' time for? Let's go.
- While we're waiting, we'll search yours. - Not my room.
Well, Herman. You have something to hide?
Then there are no objections.
All right, here's my key.
- I'll take that. - My room's open.
Everyone. Whoa. Come on.
Now, you two ust make yourselves to home here.
Well, let's get busy.
Come on, Jean-Louis. Come along. Oh, that's fine.
- Who gets your vote? - Scobie. He's the one who objected.
All right, I'll take Tex's room here and Gideon's.
You take Jean-Louis with you, and bolt the door from inside.
Come on, Jean-Louis. We'll have a treasure hunt.
Tex?
Man, that's Charlie's stuff.
Looks like it.
- Think we ought to call Herman? - What for?
If it's not here, why bother him?
And if it is?
Why bother him?
Oh.
- What? - Sure there's nothing missing here?
No, everything's here. The police have kindly provided us with a list.
Sure ain't nothin' here worth no quarter of a million dollars.
Not unless we're blind.
I keep telling myself we've stolen a great deal of money...
but up to now I've yet to see a penny of it.
You think maybe we're fishin' up the wrong stream?
Meaning what?
Suppose one of us has it. You know, like the man says.
Now, that'd be mighty distasteful...
us bein' veterans of the same war and all.
Well, you know I'd tell you if I had it.
Oh, naturally. Just like I'd tell you if I had it.
Naturally.
And that goes for Herman, too.
Naturally.
He's all right, Sylvie. Honestly.
Just hurry over as soon as you can. Okay. Good-bye.
Now, if you had a treasure, where would you hide it?
I would bury it in the garden.
Swell, but this man doesn't have a garden.
- Oh, neither do I. - You don't?
Well, if you had to hide it in this room, where would you put it?
- Up there. - On top of that cupboard?
You know something? You may be right.
Oh, I hope I don't find any hairy little things living up here.
Hey, there is something. And it's heavy.
I found it! I found it! I found it!
If you think you're getting credit for this, you're crazy.
We won! We won! We won!
We won! We won!
We found it! We found it!
- Did you find it? - No.
- What do you mean, no? - The kid was yellin'.
Up there. It's up there.
Believe me, there's nothing up there.
Yeah?
Oh!
Oh! Jumpin'frijoles.
It's Herman's spare.
- Where is he? - He's over in my room.
You'd better take the boy out in the hall.
Oh, now, who would've done a mean thing like that?
I'm not quite sure.
Well, this ain't my room.
Mine neither.
Oh, the police aren't going to like this a bit. Tsk, tsk, tsk.
We could dry him off and take him down the hall to his own room.
He really doesn't look too bad.
Oh, poor old Herman.
Seems like him and good luck always was strangers.
Well, maybe now he'll meet up with his other hand someplace.
A man drowned in his bed?
Impossible.
And in his pajamas - the second one in his pajamas.
C'est trop stupide.
Stop lying to me.
This nose tells me when you are lying.
It is never mistaken, not in 23 years.
This nose will make me commissaire of police.
Mr. Dyle, or Mr. Joshua- Which is it?
Dyle.
And yet you registered in Megève as Mr. Joshua.
Didn't you know it was against the law to register under an assumed name?
- No, I didn't. - It's done in America all the time.
None of you will be permitted to leave Paris...
until this matter is cleared up.
Only I warn you, I will be watching.
We use the guillotine in this country.
I have always suspected that the blade coming down...
causes no more than a slight tickling sensation...
on the back of the neck.
It is only a guess, of course.
I hope none of you ever finds out for certain.
Who do you think did it?
- Gideon? - Possibly.
- Or Tex? - Possibly.
- You're a fat lot of help. - That's right.
- Can I have one of those? - One of what?
- I think Tex did it. - Oh.
- Vanille et chocolat, s'il vous plait. - Why do you think Tex did it?
Because I really suspect Gideon...
and it's always the person you don't suspect.
Do women think it feminine to be so illogical, or can't they help it?
What's so illogical about that?
You just said it's always the one you don't suspect.
You suspect Gideon, therefore it must be Tex.
On the other hand, if you suspect Tex it must be the other fella, Gideon.
- I guess they just can't help it. - Hmm?
- Who? - Women.
Oh.
You know, I can't help feeling rather sorry for Scobie.
Wouldn't it be nice if we were like that?
- What, like Scobie? - No. Gene Kelly.
Remember when he danced down here by the river in An American in Paris...
without a care in the world?
- Hmm. - You know, this is good. Want some?
- Uh - - Oh!
No, thanks.
I guess you don't either. Here, give me that.
I'm sorry.
Alex, I'm scared.
Yes, I know.
I can't think of any reason why he was killed.
Well, perhaps someone thought that four shares were too many.
What makes you think that this someone is going to be satisfied with three?
- He wants it all. That means we're in his way, too. - That's right.
We've got to do something. I mean, any minute now we could be assassinated.
Would you do anything like that?
What, assassinate someone?
No. Swing down from there on a rope to save the woman you love.
Like the hunchback of Notre Dame.
Uh - Huh?
Who put that there?
- Hurry up and change. I'm starved. - Let me know what you want to eat...
so I can pick out a suit that matches.
Ha, ha, ha, ha.
Uh-uh.
What do you want?
It's the house detective. Why don't you have a girl in there?
God, you're a pest.
- Can I come in? - No. I'm going to take a bath.
Wouldn't it be better if you did it in here?
- What for? - Well, I wouldn't want to use that tub.
Anyway, I don't want to be alone. I'm afraid.
You're only next door. If anything happens, holler.
Reggie?
Got you. Ha, ha.
Did you ever hear the story of the boy who cried wolf?
The shower's in there.
- Oh, come on, open the door. - This is a ludicrous situation.
I can think of a dozen men who are just longing to use my shower.
- Why don't you call one of them? - I dare you.
Oh, you're a nut.
- What are you doing? - Taking off my shoes.
Did you ever hear of anyone taking a shower with their shoes on?
I usually sing a medley of old favorites when I'm in the shower.
- Any requests? - Shut the door.
I'm afraid I don't know that one, miss. Well -
- Shut the door. - Why?
Come in and watch.
Drip-dry.
How often do you go through this little ritual?
Oh, every day. The manufacturer recommends it.
I don't believe it.
Oh, yes, it's - Wait a minute.
Here's the label.
Look at the small print.
"Wearing this suit during washing...
helps protect its shape. "
Whoo!
Waterproof.
Wait.
Acro-nylon. Fibrous resistant.
Plastic. Rustproof. Fireproof. Proof-proof.
- You're the nut. - Nut-proof.
- Yes? - Mrs. Lampert? Bartholomew.
I spoke to Washington, Mrs. Lampert.
Go ahead, Mr. Bartholomew. I'm listening.
Well, I told them what you said about this man being Carson Dyle's brother.
I asked them what they knew about it, and they told me.
You're not gonna like this, Mrs. Lampert.
Carson Dyle had no brother.
- Mrs. Lampert? - Are you sure there's no mistake?
None whatsoever. Please be careful, Mrs. Lampert.
Bye.
I left all my drip-dry dripping. Is that all right?
What's the matter? Is something wrong?
You're probably weak from hunger.
You've only eaten five times today.
I'll get someone to fix up my suit quickly and take you out to dinner.
Let's go somewhere crowded. I feel like a lot of people.
Hey, you know, this thing is still damp.
You haven't spoken a word for 20 minutes.
I was thinking about Charles and Scobie and who's going to be next.
Me?
I don't suppose you know who the murderer is, do you?
No. Not yet.
Whoever's left alive at the end will pretty much have sewn up the nomination, don't you think?
What are you trying to say, that I might have killed Charles and Scobie?
What do I have to do to satisfy you? Become the next victim?
- It's a start, anyway. - Oh.
I can't understand you at all.
One minute you're chasing me around the shower room.
The next minute you're accusing me of murder.
Carson Dyle had no brother.
Oh, I can explain that, if you'll just listen.
Well, I can't very well leave without a pair of water wings, can I?
- All right, get set for the story of my life. - Fiction or nonfiction?
- Eh -Why don't you shut up? - Well!
- Are you going to listen? - Go on.
All right.
Now, when I was a young man, my father expected me to go into his business.
Umbrella frames. That's what he made.
A sensible business, I suppose, but I didn't have the sense in those days to be sensible.
I suppose all this is leading somewhere.
Well, it led me away from umbrella frames, for one thing.
But that left me without any honest means of support.
What do you mean?
Well, in this highly competitive world...
when a man has no profession, there isn't much choice...
so I began looking for people who had more money than they needed...
including some they'd barely miss.
You mean you're a thief?
Well, that's not exactly the term I'd have chosen...
but it sort of captures the spirit of the thing.
I don't believe it.
I can't really blame you now.
But I do believe it. That's what I don't believe.
So it's good-bye, Alexander Dyle, welcome home, Peter Joshua.
Sorry. The name's Adam Canfield.
- Adam Canfield? - Mm-hmm.
Wonderful. Do you realize you've had three names in the past two days?
I don't even know who I'm talking to anymore.
- Well, the man's the same, even if the name isn't. - No, he isn't.
- Adam Canfield is a crook, and I want to know why. - Well, it's simple.
I like what I do. I enjoy my work.
There aren't many men who love their work as much as I do.
You look around sometime.
Is there a Mrs. Canfield?
- Yes, but we're divorced. - "But we're divorced. "
- That's right. Now go and eat your dinner. - Oh, I could eat a horse.
I think that's what you ordered.
Don't you dare be civil with me after leading me on like this.
- How did I lead you on? - Oh, all that marvelous rejection.
You knew I couldn't resist it.
- Now it turns out all you're interested in is the money. - That's right.
- Oh. - Well, what would you like me to say?
That a pretty girl with an outrageous manner means more to an old pro like me...
than a quarter of a million dollars?
- I don't suppose so. - It's a toss-up, I can tell you that.
Hmm.
- What? - Hasn't it occurred to you...
that I'm having a tough time keeping my hands off you?
- Oh, you should see your face. - What's the matter with it?
It's lovely.
Ohh.
Now what's the trouble?
I'm not hungry anymore. Isn't it glorious?
- Adam! - It's all right. Come and look.
For her Romeo came
And
It was closing night
The ending of
You don't look so bad in this light.
Why do you think I brought you here?
Maybe you wanted me to see the kind of work...
the competition was turning out.
Pretty good, huh?
I taught them everything they do.
Oh, did they do that kind of thing way back in your day?
Sure. How do you think I got here?
I hear it still
I always will
- Not allowed to kiss back, huh? - Oh, no.
Doctor said it was bad for my thermostat. Mm-hmm.
Charade
Well, when you come on, you come on, don't you?
Well, come on.
Yeah.
Hmm?
In the lobby?
Are you out of your mind or something? It's 3:30 in the morning.
You mean it?
All right. All right, I'll be right down. Wait a minute.
H - H-Hey, turn on the lights!
Hey, how do you stop this thing?
Three of them, all in their pajamas? C'est ridicule.
What is it, some new American fad?
And now your friend who lives here, uh, the one from Texas...
he has disappeared into thin air.
- Where is he? - I wish I knew.
Madame?
Tell me, Mr. Dyle. Where were you at 3:30 a. m.
In my room, asleep.
- And you, Mrs. Lampert? - I was, too.
In Mr. Dyle's room?
No, in my room.
Obviously you're telling the truth...
for why would you invent such a ridiculous story?
And if I were you, I wouldn't stay in my pajamas.
Good night.
Well, that wraps it up. Tex has the money.
- Go to bed. I'll let you know when I've found him. - You're gonna go looking for him now?
If the police find him first, they're not going to turn over that quarter of a million to us.
- Oh, Adam - - Go to bed and bolt your door.
- Yeah? - Now you listen to me, Dyle.
I know who's got that money, man, and I want my share.
Seems to be growin' and growin' every day. Well, I ain't disappearin' till I get it.
- Where are you, Tex? - Come on, man.
Look, my mama didn't raise no stupid children.
I'll tell you what.
You wanna find me...
you just look over your shoulder...
'cause from now on I'm gonna be right behind you.
Open up.
- I think I was wrong about Tex having the money. - Why?
I just heard from him. He's still hungry.
That means killing Gideon didn't get it for him.
So he's narrowed it down to us. You've got it.
But I've looked everywhere. You know I have.
Where's the airlines bag?
- In the wardrobe. - Get it.
Lord, you're obstinate.
Charles must have had it with him on the train when Tex killed him.
Thanks.
Everybody and his Aunt Lillian's been through that bag...
including me.
- Okay, we'll do it again. - I've been into it at least once a day.
Somebody would have seen it.
It's there, Reggie. We're looking at it right now.
Something on that bed is worth a quarter of a million dollars.
- But what? - I don't know. I don't know.
Four passports. No.
Steamship ticket.
- Anything in there? - Nothing.
Wallet.
Comb? No.
A fountain pen.
What about that key?
To the apartment. Matches mine exactly.
Oh.
I bet you don't really need those.
You need them.
This still doesn't make sense, but it isn't worth a quarter of a million dollars either.
- Wait a minute. - What?
- The tooth powder. - What about it?
Could you recognize heroin ust by the taste of it?
Heroin.
- Peppermint-flavored heroin. - Hmm.
Well, I guess that's it.
Dead end.
Well, go to bed. You've gotta go to work in the morning.
There's nothing more we can do tonight.
I love you, Adam.
Yes, you told me.
No. The last time I said, "I love you, Alex. "
Oh.
- Hold it. They're recognizing Great Britain. - Oh, la vache.
Mr. Chairman, fellow delegates...
and my distinguished colleague from Italy.
Her Majesty's delegation has listened with great patience to the Southern European-
- Oh, are you on? - No, it's all right. What's wrong, Adam?
Nothing. I think I've found something.
I was snooping around Tex's room and came across this in the wastebasket.
I stuck it together again.
That's the receipt Grandpierre gave me for Charles's things.
- I don't see how that's going to - - You're not looking.
When we went through the airlines bag, something was missing - "un agenda. "
That's an appointment book, isn't it? It wasn't there.
That's right.
I remember Grandpierre looking through it...
but there was nothing in it the police thought was very important.
Can you remember anything in it at all?
Well, it did say something about Charles's last appointment.
With whom? Where?
- I think it only said where. - Come on, Reggie, think.
This may be what we're looking for.
Adam, that money doesn't belong to us.
- If we keep it, we'll be breaking the law. - Nonsense. We didn't steal it.
- There's no law against stealing stolen money. - Of course there is.
- There is? - Yes.
When did they pass such a silly law? Think, Reggie.
- What was in that appointment book? - Oh, it was a place or street corner or something.
Watch it. I'm on.
Of- Of the Western Hemisphere conference -
Of the Western Hemisphere conference...
held on March 22-
No, wait! It was last Thursday, 5:00...
the Jardins des Champs-Élysées.
That's it, Adam! The gardens!
Well, it's Thursday today, and it's almost 5:00, so come on.
It's all right, gentlemen. Carry on.
Now what?
5:00, Thursday, the gardens.
Must be something around here.
Charles's appointment was last week.
- Yes, I know, but this is all we've got left. - You're not kidding.
Ten minutes ago I had a job.
Now you've got another job, so stop grumbling and start looking.
I'll take that side. You poke around over here.
It's hopeless. I don't even know what we're looking for.
I don't think Tex does either.
- Tex? Is he here? - Look.
I'm going to see what he's up to. You stay here.
Be careful, Adam. He's already killed three men.
Wait! Wait!
Taxi!
Look out.
All right, where's the letter?
The letter, huh? It ain't worth nothin'.
You know what I mean. The envelope with the stamps on it.
I want it.
You greenhorn.
Why, you thick-skulled, harebrained, half-witted greenhorn.
And they was both too smart for us.
- What are you talking about? - First her husband, now her.
She batted all of them big eyes at you...
and you fell for it like an egg from a tall chicken.
You want the envelope?
There. You take it. It's all yours.
You killed all three of'em for nothin'!
You greenhorn!
You block-headedjackass!
You nincompoop!
Sylvie! What are you doing here?
I'm waiting for Jean-Louis.
Oh. What's he up to?
He was so excited when he got the stamps you gave him this morning.
- He said he'd never seen any like them. - I'm glad.
- What's all this? - The stamp market.
It's there every Thursday afternoon.
That's where Jean-Louis trades his stamps.
- Good Lord, where is he? - What's the matter, chérie?
The stamps! They're worth a fortune!
- What? - A fortune! Come on!
- Oh, I don't see him anywhere. - We'll separate.
- You look over there. - Okay.
Jean-Louis.
Jean-Louis!
Jean-Louis.
Reggie. Reggie.
Jean-Louis, thank heaven. Do you have the -
- What's this? - A man gave me all those for only three.
A man? Oh, no, Jean-Louis. Who? Where?
Vite, mon chéri. Vite.
- Là-bas. - Come on.
- Oh, but he's gone. - I don't blame him.
Entrez.
- Monsieur Felix? - Oui.
I was expecting you. I knew you would come.
Look at them, madame.
Have you ever, in your entire life, seen anything so beautiful?
I'm sorry. I don't know anything about stamps.
I know them as one knows his own face, though I had never seen them.
This one, a Swedish four shilling...
called Den Gula Fyraskillingen...
printed in 1854.
- What is it worth? - Oh, the money is unimportant.
I'm afraid it's very important.
Well, in your money, perhaps $85,000.
- May I sit down? - Yes.
- And the blue one? - Oh, it's called The Hawaiian Blue.
In 1894, the owner was murdered by a rival collector...
who was obsessed to own it.
And what is its value today?
65,000.
- And the last one. - Ah, the best for last.
Le chef-d'œuvre de la collection. The masterpiece.
The most valuable stamp in the world.
It's called the Gazette Maldave.
It was printed by hand on colored paper and marked with the initials of the printer.
Today it has a value of $ 100,000.
I'm not a thief, madame.
I knew there was some mistake.
You gave the boy a great many stamps in return.
- Are they for sale now? - Let me see.
350 European, 200 Asian...
175 American, 100 African...
and 12 Princess Grace commemorative...
which comes to 10 francs.
And don't forget these.
Thank you.
- I'm sorry. - Oh, no.
For a few minutes they were mine. That is enough.
Adam? Adam?
- Hello? - Mr. Bartholomew?
Yes.
Tex is dead. Smothered.
And Adam did it. He killed them all.
- Are you sure? - Yes, I'm sure.
Tex wrote the word "Dyle" before he died.
He's the murderer, I tell you.
Wait a minute, Mrs. Lampert. You'd better give that to me again.
It was the stamps on the letter Charles had with him on the train.
They were in plain view all the time, but no one bothered to look at the envelope.
Mrs. Lampert, listen to me. You're not safe as long as you have these stamps.
Let's see. Do you know the center garden at the Palais Royale?
- Yes. The colonnade? - Yes, by the colonnade.
- As fast as you can get there. Hurry, Mrs. Lampert. - I'm leaving right away. Good-bye.
Reggie! The stamps! Where are they? Reggie! Wait!
So you can kill me, too? Tex is dead. He wrote "Dyle" on the carpet.
- I'm not Dyle. You know that. - But Tex didn't know it. You're a murderer.
Reggie, I want those stamps!
- Palais Royale, vite. - Je suis occupé.
- Mais c'est très urgent. - Occupé.
Whoa! Billet, monsieur.
Oh!
American Embassy.
A-American Embassy?
Uh, Mr. Bartholomew's office, please.
- Would you speak a little louder, please? - I can't speak any louder.
Mr. Hamilton Bartholomew.
I'm sorry. Mr. Bartholomew has left for the day.
But someone's trying to kill me.
- What? - Kill me!
You've got to get word to him right away.
He's - He's in the center garden of the Palais Royale near the colonnade.
Tell him I'm trapped in a phone booth right below him in the metro station.
The name's Lampert.
- Hello? - Hello. Mr. Bartholomew?
- Yes. - There was a call for you ust now, Mr. Bartholomew.
It sounded quite urgent. A Mrs. Lampert.
Lampert? I don't know any Mrs. Lampert.
She says she's trapped in a metro station and someone's trying to kill her.
Trying to kill her? Who does she think I am, the C.I.A.
All right, I guess you'd better call the French police.
Mr. Bartholomew! Mr. Bartholomew!
- Help me! - Reggie, stop.
That man is Carson Dyle.
We all know Carson Dyle is dead, Mrs. Lampert.
- I tell you, he's Carson Dyle. - Now,you're not gonna believe him.
Bring those stamps over here. He's trying to trick you again.
Tex recognized him. That's why he wrote Dyle.
- If you take him those stamps, he'll kill you, too. - Mrs. Lampert...
if I'm who he says I am, what's preventing me from killing you right now?
Because he'd have to come out to get the stamps, and he knows he'd never make it.
Mrs. Lampert, he wants the money for himself.
That's all he's ever wanted.
- He's with the C.I.A. I saw him at the embassy. - I tell you, he's Carson Dyle.
That's right, Mrs. Lampert. That's right.
I'm a dead man. Look at me.
Oh, I don't know who anybody is.
Reggie, I beg you.
Just trust me once more.
Why should I?
I can't think of a reason in the world why you should.
Stop right now, Mrs. Lampert, or I'll kill you.
It won't get you the stamps, Dyle. You'll have to come out to get them...
and I'm not likely to miss at this range.
Maybe not, but it takes a lot of bullets to kill me.
They left me there with five of them in my legs and my stomach.
Mrs. Lampert, they knew I was alive, but they left me there.
I spent 10 months in a German prison camp with nothing to stop the pain.
They left me there, Mrs. Lampert. They deserved to die.
- But I had nothing to do with it. - You've got the money now. It belongs to me.
Mrs. Lampert, they knew I was still alive, but they left me there.
That's why I had to kill them, all four of them.
Please believe me. I'll kill you, too. It won't make any difference.
It's no use. You're running out of time.
I've come too far to turn back. I swear, I'll kill you.
Make up your mind, Mrs. Lampert. Now.
Adam!
All right.
I know you're in there, Mrs. Lampert. Come on out.
Do you hear me? Come on out.
I don't want to kill you, but I will.
Come on out.
The game is over, Mrs. Lampert.
You didn't have to chase me so hard.
- That one's done. Do this one. - Oh.
I'm sorry I thought you were the murderer...
but how was I to know he was as big a liar as you are?
Is that all the gratitude I get for saving your hide?
- Rub your own blinking foot. - The truth now. Was it my hide, or those stamps?
What a terrible thing to say. How could you think that?
Then prove it to me.
Tell me to go to the embassy first thing in the morning and turn in those stamps.
- I said, tell me to go to the embassy first - - I heard you, I heard you.
Then say it.
Now, Reggie, listen to me.
- There's something I'd like to explain. - Never mind. I'll go by myself.
What makes you think they're even interested? It's only a quarter million.
It'll cost more than that for them to fix their bookkeeping. As a taxpayer-
Who's a taxpayer? Crooks don't pay taxes.
- Excuse me, soldier- - Marine, ma'am.
Forgive me. Who would I see regarding the return of stolen government money?
You might try the Treasury Department.
Room 217, second floor, Mr. Cruikshank.
217. Thank you, marine.
Uh - Uh, do you mind if I don't go in with you?
The sight of all that money being given away might make me break out.
Mr. Cruikshank, please. My name is Lampert.
Yes.
- Mr. Cruikshank, a Miss Lamp - - Mrs.
Mrs. Lampert to see you.
- Yes, sir. Go right in. - Thank you.
Of all the mean...
rotten...
contemptible, crooked -
Crooked? I should think you'd be glad to find out I'm not crooked.
You can't even be honest about being dishonest.
Why didn't you say something?
- We're not allowed to tell. Come on, give me the stamps. - Hmm.
Wait a minute. How did Carson Dyle get an office in this building anyway?
- When did you meet him? What time of day, I mean. - About 1:00.
The lunch hour. Probably worked it out in advance.
Found an office usually left open and moved in for the time you were here.
Then how do I know this is your office?
Mrs. Foster, take a memo to Bartholomew in Security recommending -
Bartholomew.
Recommending that embassy offices be kept locked during the lunch hour.
Mmm. Starting with his own.
- Give me the stamps. Come on. - What's your first name today?
- Brian. - Brian Cruikshank.
Serves me right if I get stuck with that one.
- Who asked you to get stuck with any of them? - Is there a Mrs. Cruikshank?
- Yes. - But we're divorced.
No.
Oh.
My mother. She lives in Detroit.
You'd like her. She'd like you, too. Come on, give me those stamps.
Not until you prove to me that you're really Brian Cruikshank.
One day next week I'll put it on a marriage license. How about that?
Quit stalling. I want some identification now.
- I wouldn't lie on a license. - You can't prove it. You're still trying to -
"Marriage license"?
Did you say "marriage license"?
Don't change the subject. Just give me the stamps.
Oh, I love you, Adam, Alex, Peter, Brian, whatever your name is.
Oh, I love you.
I hope we have a lot of boys.
We can name them all after you.
Well, before we start that, may I have the stamps?