THE WOLF OF THE MALVENEURS
The curse of the Malveneurs.
At a time when deep and mysterious forests
still covered the whole country
lived one called the first of the Malveneurs.
It is said that in a country infested with wolves,
this rough and great hunter was tempted by the devil.
One day he had the idea of seizing some wolf cubs, to raise them
and train them for hunting.
And so he obtained an incomparable pack.
But what was the terror of the peasants
when they saw him riding in the snow
followed by the howling pack.
Soon he was accused of all evils committed twenty miles around.
It was then that the curse of God descended upon him:
He became a wolf.
A man by day, he was a wolf at night,
forgetting all, except biting,
tearing, jeopardising all.
You see, Doctor
What gives a disturbing character to this legend,
also widespread,
- Is the way in which my ancestor died. - I can guess.
No, this is a historical fact.
One morning at dawn, a farmer killed with an axe
a large wolf.
At the same time, the first of the Malveneurs
was found in bed
dead, his stomach opened by an axe blow.
A curious coincidence,
- Admit it. - I grant you.
Your husband, has just succeeded in taking us back centuries.
Reginald is often in another world.
Can we blame a scientist for his escapes into the unknown?
Doctor, what can I offer you?
The unknown has its boundaries. Isn't it exciting to push them back?
You can honour yourself with being at the forefront
of those who struggle so.
Admittedly, I struggled.
But I can say this evening, before two doctors, that after months,
even years of research, often disappointing,
I have finally glimpsed the light.
In a short while, I will be able to change the human condition.
- I know your tastes. - I know your cognac.
I read your last report with great interest.
Doctor, don't encourage my husband so, He no longer leaves his laboratory.
Estelle, my dear, don't be jealous of science.
She's an old maid, difficult to conquer.
She's cleverer than me.
You're forgetting that the state of your health is what drives me on.
You're always present in my laboratory.
The ticking of the clock reminds me of your heart.
It's your blood I see in my test tubes.
If one day you give me a son,
I would be justified in saying:
Twice, you owe me life.
I know, Reginald.
I also know that you belong to thousands of strangers.
I'm one of them.
And now, gentlemen,
you will understand why I continued
this research on cell rejuvenation,
with so much stubbornness, such faith.
Each result brought me not only an exceptional joy
but a sense of accomplishment,
a dark duty towards those of my own blood.
An idea haunts me:
After me... there will be no more Malveneurs.
It's not just for me handing my name down to posterity,
but my race and this name.
What is it now?
Edward is calling Morin for dinner.
Please excuse me, gentlemen,
I have a culture of bacillus Rejuvenens to supervise.
It will take me an hour at most.
Till then.
You see, even your presence doesn't keep him...
But... It's proof of esteem.
Dr. Guiraud and I we can only approve of it.
Besides I must be thinking of returning to Paris.
Paris, where I left with my youth and my illusions, another Estelle.
- The page is turned. - But the book is not yet finished,
No, but I've already seen the ending.
Tell me, doctor, when will she come, this girl?
Miss Valory, whenever you please,
The sooner the better.
I haven't the strength to take care of this child.
And I don't know why, but I fear something.
I'll tell her on my return.
She's a trustworthy person:
- Intelligent, hard-working... - Is there any point?
There are already three women here, you, me and Marianna.
I'm not going to confide the education of my Genevieve
to a deaf-mute.
And it isn't you who'll be responsible.
Darling, say good night.
- She doesn't grow very much. - Doesn't matter.
She's a girl...
Go to sleep, it's getting late.
You'd like me, Doctor, to set an example to my daughter?
I feel very tired.
We'll miss you, but I'm glad to see
that you're following my advice.
Don't worry, Doctor, I'll take thing easy.
And take things easy, more and more.
Have a good trip.
It's unfortunate that my sister-in-law doesn't understand
that the time isn't right to alarm my brother.
And he was right to call me in, Miss.
Estelle is imaginative.
Perhaps, but her heart is prematurely worn.
We must avoid not only all fatigue but emotion too.
That's what we do.
The whistling that preceded the departure of Reginald
is a code agreed between him and Morin his gamekeeper.
- Why? - Estelle hates Morin
because he provides my brother with animals
which are subjected to vivisection.
This idea makes her sick.
- Morin is just a gamekeeper. - He's better than a gamekeeper.
He collaborates in the experiments.
He's interested, him.
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
Amen.
All those who have lived here are well known to me.
Do not smile, Doctor.
My soul is much older than me.
There is somewhere in my consciousness
the living memories of another Magda.
You have the certainty of a previous life.
It's rather that of an extension,
mysterious.
They are in me.
They see with my eyes.
They make use of my life.
You are sceptical?
No. There are troubling cases of reminiscences.
I beg your pardon, I'd like to see Mr. De Malveneur before I leave.
It's rather late.
The Malveneurs are always waiting for something.
It may be that my brother has need of me.
Would you excuse me for a moment?
- A curious family... - Eccentric.
- I pity the young woman. - She is resigned.
Do you think he can do something for her?
He treats her physical heart. but forgets the other.
They don't appear very popular in this region.
The man at the station told me:
Rather me than you.
Do you agree?
Only three types agree to come to Malveneur:
Men of law, the church and of science.
- The mayor and the priest, reluctantly. - Because of the legend?
Partly yes, but also because of their behaviour.
They never go out, never see anyone.
Well, curious...
Their coat of arms?
Three gold wolf heads, on a black rock, tongues the same.
Originally, there was a Latin motto like this:
- "With them I howl". - Well, very engaging.
They've not told you but even today,
this legend excludes them from the cemetery.
- But where are they buried? - Here, near the château.
That's incredible. In the 20th century.
My dear fellow, the people still believe in the Malveneur wolf.
But it's time to go. My train...
Are you leaving, Doctor?
I've received you badly.
I couldn't find my brother in his laboratory.
He must be with Morin.
You really must excuse me.
- I hope you weren't too bored. - But, not in the least.
Mme de Malveneur should follow my instructions.
- And thank you for your hospitality. - Not at all.
It's late.
Where's Reginald?
He's working.
- Why hasn't he returned? - I don't know.
What's wrong?
Where's Reginald?
- What time for Tournemillon? - 10:27.
- What? - Are you deaf.
11:58... plenty of time.
This is the train for Neutart.
What about me?
How do I get to the château of Malveneur?
I don't know, Madam. I am not from round here.
And I'm not staying either.
I beg your pardon, sir. The château of Malveneur?
Take road de Villeneuve, that way,
and then turn right.
- Is it far? - 7 or 8 km.
Have you seen anyone from the château?
What do you want with them?
A cure.
Rather me than you.
- Look after this package would you. - With pleasure, Mr. Laportelle.
I beg your pardon, Miss,
I couldn't help but overhear your conversation.
I'd be happy to help.
I've a spare place. Would you like...?
- You're very kind but... - But "Yes" or "No"?
- I wouldn't like to... - Walk 7 km in this heat?
How I understand.
Let me introduce myself: Philippe Laportelle.
Your carriage is waiting, Miss Valory.
How do you know my name?
Country folk know everything.
- I see, you're the postman. - Wrong.
Guiraud, the doctor, told me of your arrival.
He also said: It seems she's pretty.
Seeing you, he wasn't mistaken.
Speed doesn't frighten you?
- If I'm afraid, I close my eyes. - Please, don't be afraid.
- Happy? - Yes.
It smells good, the earth.
- And what a lovely drive. - What a pretty look.
I needed your eyes to see this route.
You're looking for the right way in a woman's look?
- It's very unwise. - No, in your eyes, it's always the right way.
- One could take that two ways? - A road, always.
So you're going to Malveneur?
Yes, thanks to your kindness.
You know all about the drama?
Fourteen days now,
Reginald de Malveneur and his gamekeeper, Morin,
have disappeared. Since then, no news.
But that's awful.
What can one make of it?
What do you think?
Me, you know, I'm a painter:
There's always an easel between me and the world.
All I know is from the waves of gossip, whispered back and too.
- You know the lord? - No.
It's the first time I've been on holiday here.
- Are you upset? - By this story?
However, I'll try and make myself useful.
- What bothers me is... - What is it?
It's that you asked to not accompany me the château.
You're right.
- I'll set you down after Les Loups. - Les Loups?
It's the town before Malveneur.
- You must be often called in. - You think so?
I take so little space.
In a carriage, of course But in a heart?
- Ah, that's another matter. - Distinguished?
A story without words as I've always imagined.
- It's good to know. I'll look. - What for?
The words.
I didn't even ask if I was going in your direction.
Almost exactly: I live 200 metres from the station.
- I'm confused. - Don't be.
Here's the solution: I'll entrust you with this fellow.
I'm glad to have recognised you.
- Didn't I guess who you were? - Of course.
I've long wanted to paint the perfect girl.
I hope you'll visit.
Imagine it.
But I've always imagined you.
I'll see you?
Perhaps.
- You live in a beautiful country. - It depends.
- Will the harvest be good? - It depends.
Is there much livestock round here?
If this carries on, there'll be none left.
There have been strange goings on since...
- Since? - Nothing.
This is it.
We aren't at the château.
I go no further.
- But what does that mean? - You'll see.
Malveneur... Misfortune.
That's too much.
Anyone there?
Where can I find Madame de Malveneur?
Everything is easy in this country.
Is there anyone?
The conversations aren't tiring round here.
You must be Genevieve de Malveneur?
Are you afraid of me?
Well, then say hello.
I'm going to live in the château.
What is that? Can I see?
A hedgehog. How wonderful.
What's it called?
Theodore.
It suits him.
It's a name as prickly as its owner. Shall we be friends?
You and I and Theodore?
Thank you, Genevieve. Thank you, Theodore.
And now, let's see your mummy.
They've dredged the marshes, searched the area, to no avail.
Where are they? Are they alive?
It's a very painful mystery for me.
I can imagine, Madame.
I couldn't wait to get you here, to entrust this child to you.
I had only the strength to give her life.
- But you will give her that of living. - But we're already friends.
She's rather wild.
She's very endearing. I'm sure.
But we must teach hereto laugh.
Darling, go and tell Edward to come.
and leave Theodore in the kitchen.
My sister-in-law.
Let me introduce Miss Valory to whom I'll entrust Genevieve.
Good morning, Miss.
- Good morning, Madame. - No.
Miss. I'm not married, thank God.
It allows me to take care of our land.
I am bound to Malveneur by a bond as solid as that of marriage.
Any news?
Nothing.
We weren't expecting you today.
At the insistence of Dr. Andrieu I took the first train.
That's Edward.
He won't set the world on fire, but he'll do.
Certainly.
Take the lady's cases up to her room.
And then fetch some hot water.
You came on foot from the station with all that luggage?
Not really.
I had a carriage ride up to Les Loups.
Really?
With a local?
With a gentleman not from the region.
Mr. Laportelle, I think.
He's not one of us.
Besides we never see anyone at Malveneur.
You must get used to this life of a recluse.
Not everyone does.
You weren't born on this land, my dear Estelle.
What do you want?
Me, to the sound of a polished shoe sliding on a waxed floor,
I prefer that of my boots squelching on the bog.
I need roots.
I'll leave you with Miss Valory.
I'll lie down for a moment.
Till later.
Come, Miss.
That's for my brother's young man.
He's already given himself over,
to experiments on bacteriophages.
- This old furniture is charming. - On this at least we can agree.
- And not just that, I hope. - Is this enough?
- Yes, thanks. - There's no shortage.
One wouldn't think so to see you. You'd rather wine.
A good glass of wine is the good God in velvet breeches.
That'll do, drunkard.
I suppose my sister-in-law has spoken to you about...
The absence of my brother.
Could you please avoid the subject in her presence.
She has a weak heart.
Moreover, there is no need to panic.
My brother was able to make a discovery large enough...
to justify his departure.
Mr. De Malveneur was a doctor?
He is much better than that.
What? What is it now?
Now you understand why the locals are reluctant
to cross the gates of the château.
You know that for centuries, we're forbidden the cemetery.
When we die, we're buried here like dogs.
Just like dogs.
It's difficult to accept the persistence of such a legend.
Alas. When they talk of "our place" it isn't "ours" like the others.
The allusion is direct, believe me.
What they say doesn't matter. Why worry about it?
Their hostility is painful.
Why?
It shouldn't bother you: You're only a Malveneur incidentally.
Go and tell that gentleman over there this isn't in a public park.
He's doing no harm. He's painting.
Dear Estelle, there was a time when we'd set the dogs on him.
Let him get caught elsewhere. Understand?
Tell the painter over there that it's not a public park
and he should go and paint elsewhere.
Idiot. Just tell him to go.
Another who'll be hostile to us...
My dear Estelle, I must confess that I don't care.
Till this evening. Come, Fando.
She always makes up stories. He won't run off with the château.
I'll go and warn the gentleman.
Excuse me?
- Finally. - Finally what?
Finally, the Sleeping Beauty awakes.
Unfortunately, it's not for you to say such nice things.
Hello anyway.
Hello, master.
I've been chosen, unfortunately to ask you to leave.
You have been chosen specifically to tell me?
No, but since there were unpleasant things to say,
I'd rather it was done by someone who didn't think them.
This attention is like you.
She is beautiful.
- Why are you hiding your work? - Because you aren't in it.
I'm no good at still lives.
Sleeping Beauty was a still life.
You've an answer for everything.
Well, pleased with your new life?
Why not?
And the climate at the citadel: Disarray? Anxiety?
It is difficult to define.
We talk about everything except the event.
You've not noticed anything special?
But why all these questions? Are you interested?
No, but I like enigmas and I think...
It's a discreet call to order.
This means firstly that tea is served.
And then that our chat is ill-timed.
One word. Just one.
- You know the little bridge? - Yes, why?
I will immortalize the scene on a canvas signed by Laportelle.
Criticism is allowed daily from 4:00 to 6:00.
Don't be silly and be off for the sky is threatening.
Don't be like the sky, and come tomorrow.
Listen.
What is it?
The waltz.
The forgotten waltz...
Please forgive me.
This storm is making me foolishly nervous.
I'm obsessed with a thousand memories.
- What time is it? - 10:00
Is Genevieve in bed?
Now you must sleep.
You must rest.
I'll try.
Would you close the window?
I'm rather cold.
How reassuring your presence is, Miss Valory.
You like me, I think?
Do you doubt it, Madame?
I'm so happy to have found for Genevieve
a heart, rather than a mind.
Mine beats only for her
but so weakly it can no longer be heard.
We can say everything in a glance.
Especially in the look of a mother.
She hears your heart when she looks at you.
I hope so.
She hears yours also, I'm sure.
Thanks to you I'm no longer worried about it.
It's a task very easy to achieve.
My scarf, please.
What do you want?
I'm replacing the gamekeeper.
I feel that superstitions would better defend the château
than would a gamekeeper.
Then you're conversant? The fools.
For them, the experiments of Reginald and my worship of the past
are trademarks of a fiendish atavism.
- It's funny, is it not? - Perhaps.
- But it's easy to disabuse them. - Why?
I've already told you: the living bore me.
A little kirsch?
If, like me. you did six hours of riding,
you wouldn't say no.
What do you think, Miss Valory?
I think it would be hard for you to lead another life.
Impossible.
Malveneur has given me everything I wanted: a life harsh and powerful.
I have ploughed, drawn horses, cut down trees.
After 1918,
I helped my maimed brother with his experiments.
Imagine my reputation.
A woman who spent her days on horseback,
and her nights in a laboratory.
They said "eccentric" to not say worse.
I don't care.
I know from experience that a single woman is always criticised.
I was accused of living on the margins of my century
Women, especially.
Know what it's like to ride on one's land in the shadows?
and to feel rise in you the smell of dead centuries.
I don't know why I've opened up to you like this.
Go to sleep, it's getting late. You must need it.
- What is it? - Come quickly. Come quickly.
Why aren't you asleep, my darling?
I'm afraid.
- Listen. - But frightened of what? Of the storm?
No, it's not the storm.
Listen.
I can't hear anything, Genevieve.
There's someone there.
No, you see... Who would go out at a time like this.
Yes. Because of the wolf.
What wolf?
It called.
Genevieve, my love...
It's the wind making that noise.
There's no more wolf, darling.
Go to sleep.
I'll stay with you.
Sleep, now.
I know.
The storm must have been fatal.
You had something to say?
But...
Yes.
I found her scarf.
- Where? - On the steps, Miss.
On the steps?
I must have lost it.
I borrowed it last night from my poor sister-in-law.
- Are you quite sure? - Absolutely certain.
The scarf was on the floor beside the bed. I picked it up myself.
- It happened last night? - Around ten.
- Where was the lovely Magda? - Out.
But the questions. Are you capable of being serious?
No, only that you are mixed up in this business, so...
It interests me.
You can prove it by complementing my own observations.
At your command.
One thing, first is obvious:
Magda de Malveneur lied.
But why would she?
I would tell you if I knew
why her sister-in-law left the château on such a night.
That's a detail that surprises me:
A woman who's sick and frail...
doesn't lose her scarf without realising it.
- Yes, in a number of cases. - Which?
Sleepwalking.
Excitement.
Depression.
Or more simply...
Death.
What do you mean?
I mean that in general the dead are indifferent.
You want...
You think it was moved there?
I don't think anything, good Lord.
I'm giving a simple hypothesis.
Ignore the imagination of a dauber.
On the contrary.
It takes much imagination to discover a simple thing.
Listen, since you trust me,
let me give you some advice.
You're welcome.
A simple family feud may be behind all these events.
However, stay on your guard.
Watch, listen
but above all you must suspect everyone.
Don't worry, dear master. I'll be more impenetrable than Marianna.
Come on. Quick, Genevieve. Mass is at ten.
You know, Miss, I had a beautiful dream.
Really? What was it?
It was like before.
A long time ago...
- When I was little. - A very long time indeed.
There was music.
And Mummy played the forgotten waltz.
The forgotten waltz?
It's very nice music.
Mummy always played it when she was unhappy.
And me, I dreamed...
I dreamed that Edward was sitting on Theodore.
And then he ran...
He ran with a hedgehog
stuck to the seat of his trousers.
Can I take the tray?
Yes, Edward. Take it all.
If you don't keep still, you'll have hair like Edward.
Look at him.
Once, Aunt Magda shaved his head,
He looked like an egg.
It's not what's on the head but what's inside.
Quite right, Edward, quite right.
And now, Genevieve
you will find Marianna.
She's not here, she's down below.
- Down below? Where? - In the laboratory.
Go back with Edward.
I'll lunch with Dr. Guiraud. He'll bring me back.
Do you think, I could find postcards of the château?
No doubt.
Keep looking.
Go and wait for me in the carriage.
Where's she going this enemy of the Fine Arts?
- To the doctor. For lunch. - lucky for him.
- What's new? - Nothing.
The funeral was held.
- Sinister. - I thought so.
You know, old Marianna,
she sometimes goes to the laboratory.
That's interesting.
- I feel that I'm being watched. - Watch out for yourself.
I can't wait to see you again.
- You turn it wrong - What?
I mean you're turning it the wrong way.
Why? Is there just one way?
Obviously, I'm not as artistic as you.
Hello, vision.
Always fleeting, elusive.
I'm rarely alone.
You will be this afternoon.
Try to see what the old dear does in the laboratory.
I'll try.
Report at 4:00 in the main avenue.
There's no fixed time for visions. They have the right to be late.
I have to go.
Your eyes shine in that fashion It fills my heart with passion
What did you say?
Nothing. It's on a postcard.
See you then?
Aunt Magda said it's better to sleep in one's own land than in another's.
Say, you know what would be fun?
To visit the laboratory.
- But it's forbidden, Miss. - Why?
Only Daddy, Aunt Magda and Morin have the right to enter.
But your Daddy is gone now. So no more dangerous experiments.
Come along.
And with me you've nothing to fear.
Wait here.
- It must be there. - I don't know.
We'll look elsewhere.
- What's the matter? - Morin's clothes.
Are you sure?
- Yes, and his boots too. - Leave them.
He was the gamekeeper, wasn't he?
Yes. He worked with Daddy.
Stay here. I'll go and look.
Don't leave me.
Come on. Let's not stay here.
I'm frightened.
Open up.
I thought you were informed, Sir,
It's forbidden to come on my land without my permission.
I don't know how to apologise.
I misunderstood. I thought I could finish my painting.
One doesn't paint at Malveneur.
If you have talent, You could better prove it
by choosing a more insignificant subject.
- I have nothing more to say. - Under these conditions...
I would like to insist.
Open up.
What are you doing there?
- And what did you say? - I hesitated.
- I said I was looking for Marianna. - And she believed you?
I doubt it but she couldn't contradict me.
Why?
Because she herself claimed that Marianna was down below.
She could have locked us in without knowing.
This joke has lasted long enough. You must leave tonight.
Certainly not. I've a living to earn.
- Well, for the moment. - Patience...
- I've an excellent situation for you. - As a model?
That sort of thing doesn't tempt me at all.
No, I assure you, I'm serious.
Believe me, pack your bags.
Why create a drama?
Who knows that Mr. de Malveneur might have in his private life
sufficient reason to leave the château.
And maybe his wife wanted to kill herself because of this?
It's very plausible, You agree?
- So what risk is there? - Not much.
At most to make you kill yourself too.
Pessimistic today, dear friend?
Dear friend... Philippe...
What is it?
"Philippe" is gentler to my ear that "dear friend".
I understand, Philippe.
Look.
Leave this path. Come.
It's foolish for us to be seen like this.
Long live foolishness. What's in this hut?
- It's the game keeper's. - Perfect. Quick, darling.
Why call me "darling"?
Because action gives me courage.
Enter, sylph.
Look, it's a mill.
The last word in mills.
Sit down, please.
I fear that it's a bit risky, even for a sylph.
Tomorrow when you'll have left, there'll be no more risks.
I'll take charge.
I have no right to leave.
I promised to watch over the little one.
She has only me and...
She loves me greatly.
And if someone else loved you?
Simply loved you.
That is, much more than much.
What would you say?
The question doesn't arise.
There's no one else.
Really?
But I had the sensation of existing, of being real.
You, the sceptic...
You who take nothing seriously...
- You'd be... - That someone else?
Of course.
And then...
I take my heart seriously.
Your heart can be mistaken.
Listen to its reply.
It speaks well.
You see, the story is no longer without words.
Is it as you once imagined?
It is even more beautiful.
It is as I imagined since I've know you.
Monique, my love...
I am the happiest stealer of visions.
And I have received so much joy
that I can't even begin to imagine...
Yet it's easy.
Just think "we" instead of thinking "I".
Look, darling. The sun.
He's stealing two from the moon.
Isn't it strange.
So much joy...
So much light in this abandoned house.
In this dead house.
Life has changed colour.
Hurry, we can leave.
We can get out here.
In any case, it won't stop me from telling you:
I love you.
I love you, Philippe.
We'll stay here.
I'll tell you why later.
Can't we go?
Leave it to me.
You have gone too far, Sir.
As for you, Miss Valory, you have a curious way
to justify your position.
I beg your pardon, Miss.
I won't allow you to make the least reproach to Miss Valory.
If she's here, it's because I insisted.
And because there is a dead body a few metres from us.
- What are you saying? - Why don't you see for yourself.
It's not possible.
Do you want to know who it is?
Obviously.
It's horrible.
I would have wanted,
to spare you this painful ordeal.
Can I be of help?
Thanks you, Sir. But I'll inform Dr Guiraud.
I beg you just to be discreet.
Nobody knows that my brother disappeared
during an experiment which was to be conclusive.
Nobody needs to know my brother committed suicide.
Suicide?
He is dead, and that's that.
He died elsewhere than in his bed like all those who fight.
Like all the Malveneurs.
She's lying.
Malveneur didn't kill himself.
- What makes you think so? - The other.
Morin?
Remember the basement?
Who do you think she hides and feeds?
Her ghosts, her glorious ghosts?
- She would be complicit? - I'm more and more convinced.
True. It's even quite likely.
She has for her realm, an abnormal, a monstrous love,
She has made a void around the castle.
I know something.
On the other hand, Malveneur had a secret goal in pursuing his research.
He wanted to cure his wife
to obtain a male heir.
He said so one evening to Dr. Andrieu.
That's the unwise word. That evening, he disappeared.
But, Philippe, if he dies,
His wife Estelle becomes owner of the château.
She is sentenced: All it needs is a skilfully managed shock.
Three gold wolf heads.
It's the second death certificate I've signed
in a last few days at Malveneur.
And there was no warning of this...
Suicide?
Absolutely not.
He was full of confidence full of enthusiasm.
We are buried here just like dogs.
Just like dogs...
- What is it, my sweet? - I'm afraid.
What is it, darling?
There he is.
He's over there.
There's nothing to worry about.
How long will you be afraid of the wind?
Come.
And now you must go to sleep like a good, little girl.
The waltz.
The forgotten waltz.
You're late.
Science allows no delay.
Who are you?
Why do you still ask?
- I am Reginald de Malveneur. - Not true.
- Not true. He's dead. - Dead?
There is no death.
There are only sleeping cells.
Prolong life. Do you hear?
Prolong live, push back death.
Go away Magda.
The animals were not enough.
One must prove it on a man.
Me, I dared.
Morin agreed too.
He didn't die of shock, That's not true.
You must tell Magda.
They took him away.
With Marianna, they hid him.
But...
I found him.
He was at home at the mill.
It was he who was moving the wheel.
I gave him again the serum,
the same dose.
A shot.
I revived him.
You hear?
Don't you believe me?
Come and see.
He's no longer there.
Marianna's taken the key.
Shut me in here.
so I can work.
So I'm not distracted by the others.
I'm the greatest scientist of the century.
Magda knows.
But who plays the harmonium?
It's me.
I always play before my experiments.
Play again, would you?
You play very well.
If I played the harmonium,
Estelle would come. like the other night.
She loves music, Estelle.
Her weak heart...
When I went to give her an injection...
She fell.
Let me go.
Don't worry about it.
If you don't know the signal, Magda won't open the gates.
Science doesn't deal in approximations.
Neither Estelle, nor Morin
can furnish the proof:
One has blood too poor, the other...
blood too rich.
I need normal blood.
That is why I summoned you.
- Have you eaten? - Let me go.
You're afraid.
The others...
They were all afraid of us.
Afraid...
Of the Malveneurs.
The fools.
To believe that I killed animals like the other of the legend.
I do not give death, me.
I give... life.
When I have absolute certainty.
A milestone in the history of the world.
The bacillus Rejuvenens.
You mustn't scream.
Besides, it's useless.
No one can hear you.
That's not true.
It's time.
Go away.
You know that it's forbidden to enter during the experiments.
Don't worry, Master.
They will come.
They'll come... without a sound.
Eric and Bertrand...
And Ghislaine...
and Beatrice...
She knows them all by name.
Often I hear them howl.
Tell no one: They have wolf blood in their veins.
They are waiting up there
in the house of the dead.
When I play the harmonium,
they will come down.
The music will warn them.
They will all come, all those of my blood.
All the Malveneurs.
To see me, the last in the line.
to see me save my race.
You have deceived me.
I'll set Morin on you.
- You forget that you killed him. - It's not true.
The serum was successful.
So much that we buried him yesterday.
Buried?
Atone.
One must... atone.
I am here under orders.
This easel, this canvas...
All this was just a screen.
No more lies.
- You speak for yourself. - Really.
What did you learn tonight?
Madame de Malveneur didn't die in her bed.
Attracted by the harmonium, she died of the shock
of finding herself with a husband gone mad.
So you had to lie.
Lie to everyone.
Except to the deaf-mute
who helped you take the corpse to her room
and organise this staging.
Continue, Miss.
It wasn't Marianna who shut Genevieve and me in the cellar.
It was Mr. de Malveneur.
Whom I freed without suspecting.
You lied again.
Here, I open a parenthesis:
Your brother escaped a second time
and goes to the mill
where I dare say he re-kills Morin.
But what are you saying?
Your turn, Doctor.
On the unrecognisable body wearing the clothes of Mr. de Malveneur,
were the signs of a recent injection of serum.
An strange realisation that gave me a glimpse of the truth:
The dead man isn't Malveneur.
I had my proof by noting that if the clothes fit the body
the rings were too narrow for the fingers.
There's no more doubt: it's the body of Morin.
How did you appropriate his rings?
It's you who ask me?
I'm very tempted to believe
that you yourself put them in Morin's drawer.
and this to deflect suspicion in case his own body
should be found.
- Hypothesis. - Perhaps.
But when you declare the body is that of your brother,
once more you lie.
That's why I gave the order to Dr Guiraud to still sign the death certificate.
- A trap. - It's my duty.
I then found that by a sort of understandable modesty,
you did not dare to bury the gamekeeper
in the same grave as Madame de Malveneur.
Is it still a hypothesis?
I see now the role of Miss Valory.
That's uncalled for.
Miss Valory only learned last night of my true identity.
- Is that all? - No, that's not all.
It remains to explain why you lied so persistently.
Let's come to the evening in which you abruptly left your guests
the doctors Andrieu and Guiraud.
You leave the château.
You find your brother, out of his mind, raving.
It was he who whistled the second time,
In the laboratory,
the body of the gamekeeper is stretched out, killed by the serum.
It's then that you act like a true Malveneur.
You must hide the body of Morin.
You waste no time:
You dress the body in the madman's clothes.
Lock up your brother.
Finally, aided by Marianna
you take to the stream the false Reginald.
That is your first lie.
Do you deny it?
Why didn't you put your brother
immediately in the hands of a psychiatrist?
One doesn't lock up a Malveneur.
No more in an asylum than in a prison
I wanted the madness of my brother
to remain secret forever.
Such feelings might elude a police officer.
Nothing, Miss, should escape the police.
I don't judge, I ascertain.
Well...
Ascertain, Sir.
And give this story as food...
to the reporters.
Nobody forces me to disclose it.
As for Dr. Guiraud,
he's not too talkative.
But the cry...
That sinister cry?
It was him.
Reginald has escaped.
It's impossible. We locked him up.
So much effort for nothing.
We must catch him.
Hurry. I don't want people to know.
Doctor, by the ledge.
Stay with the child. She mustn't see her father.
We're on to Malveneur.
A wild one. We'll get him.
The rest of you, that way.
- They're going to see him. - But what can you do?
He's dead.
It's dreadful.
He was shut in.
The last in the line is dead, like the first.
There are no more Malveneurs.