Can we give you another car, Mr. Robertson?
This one really ought to be serviced.
Oh, fine. Yes.
As long as it's a large car.
Oh, by the way, Mr. Robertson.
- I have a message for you. - A what?
A message.
It's from Mr. Knight.
It can't be for me.
I'm sure it's not a mistake. Here.
He said he didn't know you...
...but he wanted you to get in touch with him.
He's staying at the Hotel Oriente.
The same as you, I think.
- Will the Fiat 125 be all right? - Son of a bitch.
Are you sure that he said that he didn't know me?
I'm quite sure, Mr. Robertson.
Thank you very much. I don't think I'll be needing another car.
I'm- I'm sorry.
Hey. Have you decided not to disappear?
No.
That's why I came. I thought perhaps you could help me.
This way.
How can I help you?
How can you help me?
It sounds crazy because I can't explain it.
But there is someone following me.
- Another one? - No. The same man.
Someone I don't wanna meet.
I've bought a car.
Second hand. Third hand.
I'm leaving Barcelona, but I have to get my things from the hotel.
That sounds rather easy.
Except that he's probably waiting for me.
So you want me to get the jewels and secret documents?
Yes.
I'll give you the keys to the car and my passport and a thousand pesetas.
I don't know who else to ask.
Okay.
Excuse me. Excuse me. Could I talk to you for a moment?
- What is it? - I'm sorry to intrude like this...
...but I understand you're a friend of David Robertson.
- Who? - David Robertson.
Yes, in a way, but who are you?
Well, I've been trying very hard to find him.
I thought you might know where he was.
I gather from the hotel that these are his things.
- Yes. - I'm sorry. My name's Martin Knight.
I'm a television producer from England.
I've come all the way out to talk to him, but I can't find him.
I see.
- Well, I'll take you to him. - Really? That would be very kind.
Thank you. I left a message for him...
...at the Avis office, but there seems to have been some misunderstanding.
I think he mentioned you.
You mind following in a taxi?
I have to pick up somebody else with some more stuff.
All right. Thank you so much, that's very kind of you.
I'll just get a taxi.
- Was it difficult? - Well...
- Thank you. - Come on.
Is that your suitcase?
Can I ask you one question now?
- One you can, yes. - Only one, always the same.
What are you running away from?
Turn your back to the front seat.
I've run out of everything.
My wife.
The house.
An adopted child.
A successful job.
Everything except a few bad habits I couldn't get rid of.
How did you get away with it?
There was an accident.
Everyone thought I was dead.
I let them think so.
There is no way to explain it, is there?
Now I think I'm going to be a waiter in Gibraltar.
Too obvious.
- Maybe a novelist in Cairo. - Too romantic.
- How about a gunrunner? - Too unlikely.
As a matter of fact, I think I am one.
Then it depends on which side you're on.
Yes.
I just sold 5000 hand grenades, 900 rifles...
...and a great deal of ammunition to some people...
...fighting a secret war in an obscure part of the world.
- I like it. - You like that one?
You like.
How about you?
I'm a tourist become a bodyguard.
I'm studying architecture.
- Studying architecture? - Yeah.
What kind of impression do you think you make...
...when you first come into a room?
They look at me. Just think I'm all right.
Nothing mysterious.
You learn much more packing someone's things.
Yeah, it's like listening in on a private phone conversation.
A room.
- How do you feel? - Happy.
That man said he was looking for David Robertson.
Who did?
The man who was following you.
- What else? - Nothing.
He said he was a television producer.
And wanted to talk to you about a friend, that's all.
You've got a date with Marina...
...at 3:00 on the 10 of September, don't forget.
At the Plaza de la Iglesia, San- San Ferdinando.
And another next day, in a place called Osuna, with Daisy.
- Osuna. - Yes.
At the Hotel de la Gloria. Very picturesque, perhaps.
I won't be there.
What a pity, all these girls: Lucy, Marina, Daisy.
Daisy again. Daisy seems to be your favorite.
- I think this Daisy is a man. - A man?
Yes.
Yesterday when we filmed you at the village...
...I understood that you were brought up to be a witch doctor.
Isn't it unusual for someone like you...
...to have spent several years in France and Yugoslavia?
Has that changed your attitude toward certain tribal customs?
Don't they strike you as false now and wrong, perhaps, for the tribe?
Mr. Locke...
...there are perfectly satisfactory answers to all your questions.
But I don't think you understand how little you can learn from them.
Your question...
...are much more revealing about yourself...
...than my answer would be about me.
I meant them quite sincerely.
Mr. Locke, we can have a conversation...
...but only if it's not just what you think is sincere...
...but also what I believe to be honest.
Yes, of course, but...
Now we can have an interview.
You can ask me the same questions as before.
- Everything all right? - Fine. See you later.
Martin, you're back.
What luck. I've been trying to find you.
- I want to see this again. - What?
- This one. - What's this?
Oh, that one.
- What happened? - He disappeared.
Who, Robertson?
It was as though he was frightened of something.
- Frightened? - Yes, I don't know why.
I think we should get in touch with the embassy.
They might be able to tell us something about him.
- Yes, I know. - What?
I was supposed to collect David's things there tomorrow.
Mrs. Locke.
Good afternoon. Please sit down.
Mrs. Locke...
...may I offer you my government's most sincere condolences.
Thank you.
We have his things here for you.
Now, about your inquiry.
I understand you were asking about Mr. Robertson.
- David Alfred Robertson. - Yes.
Can you help me?
He was probably the last man to speak to my husband.
Robertson is involved in illegal arms traffic in our country.
Arms traffic?
Could he have killed my husband?
No.
We are sure of the doctor's report. Your husband died from a heart attack.
- Did my husband realize who he was? - I don't think so.
Robertson is associated with the United Liberation Front.
A rather- What shall I say?
A rather radical organization, a man called Achebe.
They're very troublesome people. Very unintelligent.
- However, Robertson has vanished. - But he was in Barcelona.
- When did you contact him there? - Three days ago.
Do you plan going on looking for him?
Yes.
Haven't been in London for three years now.
Wouldn't it be better if we could just forget old places?
Forget everything that happens and just throw it all away, day by day?
Unfortunately the world doesn't work that way.
Well, it doesn't work the other way either.
That's the problem.
What's on the other side of that window?
People will believe what I write. And why?
Because it conforms to their expectations...
...and to mine as well, which is worse.
Well, in India, you know, they-
Hey, I think your tape recorder's...
- Yes. I must have- - Still running, you know.
Yeah, sorry.
Plaza de la Iglesia. This is it.
I should go alone from here.
No one.
What the fuck are you doing here with me?
Which me?
The only one I know. There are no others. All the rest of that's just...
Let's go and eat.
- The old me is hungry. - No.
- Why? - Because I'm not interested...
...in giving up.
Hope you make it.
Make it what?
Hey.
- Do you believe in coincidence? - I never asked myself.
I never used to notice it. Now I see it all around.
- Do you know something? - What?
- I saw you before. - Where?
- In London. - What I was doing?
- Reading. - Then it must have been me.
- What are you thinking? - Nothing.
Excuse me, se@~nor.
- Is that your white car parked outside? - Yes. Why?
A policeman is looking for the owner.
Shall I tell him to come in?
No. I'll go.
He's looking for a white convertible with Madrid plates.
He doesn't know why. He want us to go with him.
I go, it's better.
Se@~nor, are you looking for the car or the person in it?
They're looking for David Robertson.
There is a woman named Rachel Locke.
She thinks he is in danger.
In danger of what?
Se@~nora Locke?
- Se@~nora Locke? - Yes?
Se@~nora Locke?
- Se@~nora Locke. - Yes.
Front desk.
Yes. Do you have a double room for the night...
- ...for myself and the young woman? - Did you give any other information?
Thank you.
What about the embassy? Did you try them?
What did they say?
The police.
- There's a hole in the pan. - What's that?
It's a metal pan under the crankcase...
...the oil all will run out.
What should we do?
Well, reach the first place, get a mechanic and repair the car.
It will run?
Slowly.
Isn't it beautiful here?
Yes.
It's very beautiful.
We can't go up there. The car won't make it.
The police will come soon, I know.
We better go.
There's a boat leaving from Almer@/ia to Tangiers.
Listen.
You can't be like that, just escaping.
So keep the appointment.
No one will be there, like the other places.
But Robertson made these appointments.
He believed in something.
That's what you wanted, didn't you?
- But he's dead. - But you're not.
Okay.
We can both go.
No.
You take the bus...
...to Almer@/ia.
Catch that boat, go to Tangiers...
...and leave a message for me at American Express.
I'll meet you there in three days' time if you turn up.
Okay.
Take care.
Closed.
Thank you.
- Is there any luggage? - No, no baggage.
Thank you, Mr. Robertson.
Mrs. Robertson has arrived a few hours ago.
- Mrs. Robertson? - Yes.
We don't need your passport, one is enough.
We have put you in adjoining rooms for a night.
What can you see?
A little boy and an old woman.
They are having an argument about which way to go.
You shouldn't have come.
What can you see now?
A man scratching his shoulder.
A kid throwing stones.
And dust.
It's very dusty here.
Isn't it funny how things happen?
All the shapes we make.
Wouldn't it be terrible to be blind?
I know a man who was blind.
When he was nearly 40 years old he had an operation...
...and regained his sight.
How was it like?
At first he was elated...
...really high.
Faces...
...colors...
...landscapes.
But then everything began to change.
The world was much poorer than he imagined.
No one had ever told him how much dirt there was.
How much ugliness.
He noticed ugliness everywhere.
When he was blind...
...he used to cross the street alone with a stick.
After he regained his sight...
...he became afraid.
He began to live in darkness.
He never left his room.
After three years he killed himself.
What the fuck are you doing here with me?
You better go.
Okay.
Is this David Robertson?
Do you recognize him?
I never knew him.
Do you recognize him?
Yes.