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Now you are confusing me, Mrs De Moraes. |
Can it be that easy? |
Can it be that you want your brother found? |
Anything is possible. |
I found this at your brothers. |
Disney! How inter... |
Its a snuff movie. Prime paedophile material. Im told it retails at around 4,000. I see you dont require a definition. |
You... You found that at Leons? |
Theres more. Your brother also purchased a young boy for 15,000. |
You seem surprised. Could it be you dont think that badly of him after all? You neednt worry. It seems his motives were pure. From what I can make out he bought the boy to rescue him from further abuse. |
What... What are you talking about? |
Your brother got mixed up with child procurers and tried to make this world a better place, Mrs De Moraes. And having rescued one little life he unwisely set out to repeat the exercise. You dont mess around with child procurers. Right now my guess is hes either on the run, held captive, or dead. I understand your misgivings, Mrs De Moraes. But Ive seen the boy and made telephone contact with the man Leon bought him from. If anyone knows what happened to your brother it will be that man. Which leads me to why Im here at such a late hour. I need 20,000, in cash, by 11 this morning. |
Excuse me? |
I need the money to smooth my way, you understand? Now, have you got that sort of cash here or do we need to meet in the morning? |
I will of course do my best to hang onto it. |
Where is it? He. The boy you said my brother bought! Where is he? |
I cant tell you that yet. But hes being well looked after. |
Oh no. Youll have to do better than that, Mr Lombard. |
Look, Mrs De Moraes, however much of a let down it might be, your brothers not back to his old weekend tricks! Impressionable as he is, he probably grew tired of healthy girls in grisly poses, tried moving on to bigger things, came upon more than hed bargained for and somehow fancied he could take on the real world. Which he no doubt chanced upon on his way to that thing now sitting on your table... Have a look at it, Mrs De Moraes. I told you I had bad news... |
How dare you... You dont know this tape belongs to my brother, do you, Mr Lombard? |
The question now is whether or not your brother still owns anything, Mrs De Moraes. |
No. The question now is how long its going to take you to get out of here, Mr Lombard. |
Excuse me? |
Get out of my house. Youre fired, Mr Lombard. |
Perhaps I should come back when youre... |
No. Youre fired! Get out of my house. And take your sick tape with you... |
Laurence! |
I was hired by your parents, Mrs De Moraes. |
The family hired you and I have just fired you, Mr Lombard. |
Why me, Mrs De Moraes? Why should such wellconnected people as you hire a small time French detective to look for their missing son, Mrs De Moraes? |
Huh! Who do you think we are, Mr Lombard? |
Couldnt Nazi hunters do the job? |
I still dont buy your story but I figured it cant do any harm to let you go on with your enquiry. Besides, if you do turn out to be nothing but a cheap little extortioner, we could always get the right people onto you. I trust you know who I am talking about. |
You drive a hard bargain. |
Thank you for coming. Come in and close the door, will you? |
Last night you upset my sleep. Tonight my social life. We have two minutes. My dinner guests are waiting. |
You lost my money? |
You could say that. And Friedman left this morning for Los Angeles. |
Who is Friedman? |
The man who sold the boy to your brother. |
Im impressed. That information could have cost me 20,000. |
Well, I found a little more than that. Let me put it this way:... Last night I thought your brother might be dead, tonight Im convinced he is. That said, I have no evidence and I advise you to let the police deal with it. |
Are we understood? |
You watched the tape? Friedman and his people dont just provide little kids and videotapes, Mrs De Moraes. Theyre in the importexport business. They run hotels here in London which they probably use as ware houses and ports of call for their merchandise. |
Huh! Really? Hotels? |
The hotels are useful capital investments. The kids liquid assets. My guess is they own hotels across the globe, and travel agencies specialising in flights from the third world to boot. |
Minimizes the risks. Children can be moved across borders using reliable businesses. These can also be used to move women and drugs... Anything that makes money really. |
Wwhy are you telling me all this, Mr Lombard? |
You drive a hard bargain, Mr Lombard. |
You do want me to keep the job, dont you, Mrs De Moraes? |
Mr Lombard? |
Have you got a pen? |
Just a moment... Go ahead. |
The Mondrian, room 504. The number is 266 7548, plus the L.A. code... |
...7548. Have you... Have you found him yet? |
Are you all right? |
Yes... You woke me up... Its the middle of the night here. Have you found Mr Friedman? |
Not yet. The place I hoped to find him turns out to be little more than a contact address. Ill give it 24 hours. He just might show up. If you need to reach me ask for Mr Lamont. Paul Lamont, all right? |
Paul Lamont...? |
Yeah. Goodnight, Mrs De Moraes. |
Mr Lombard. Mrs De Moraes... |
Uh... Wait a moment, Mrs De Moraes... |
Mr Lombard... |
How are you, Mrs De Moraes? |
When did you get back? |
Why dont you ask when I left the Mondrian? |
Im really sorry you were not called... |
Youre repeating yourself, Mrs De Moraes. |
I... Well, were burying Leon tomorrow and... Look, I wish I had more time, but its late and with the funeral... |
Arent you curious to know about Friedman? |
I... If you dont mind, I do not think he matters now. It... Things turned out to be as we thought; Leon was weak. Theres no point in delving into his sad life anymore. Now, will you please tell me how much we owe you? |
Black suits you. |
Sorry? |
Whats in the bag? Underwear? To seduce your husband? Or is it for your own recreation? Tell me, how come such a handsome couple sleep in seperate bedrooms? Is it because he does it with little children? |
Or is it the other way round? The children are needed because you cant satisfy him? |
You... You are out of order, Mr Lombard. I... |
You what, Mrs De Moraes? YOU WHAT? |
How did you break into my office, Deborah? Ladies of your standing dont learn to pick locks between shopping trips. Come on, Deborah! Acting dumb doesnt suit you! Who knew Id found dirt on your brother, huh? Who knew it was in an envelope? Taking me for dead, whod want to make sure it didnt fall into the wrong hands? |
Youre mad... |
Ive had a long and unpleasant day. Im tired and Im angry. But mad? Not yet. I paid Leons boy a visit this morning. Found him alive and well. Why havent you told your husband where he is since reading my note, eh? |
Why... I dont know what youre talking about. |
You know hed have had him killed, dont you? Does a conscience still burn somewhere inside your sore mind, Deborah? Or is it just cold expediency? Could the boy perhaps come in useful when and if the day ever comes for you to face up to the man you married? |
Have you finished? |
When did you learn about his taste for kids, huh? On your honeymoon? Or was it later, when bitterness set in and you turned against your beloved but weak little brother? How did you find out? Did he confess? Try to convert you perhaps? Or was it womans intuition? Or just the way he fucked you? |
You do have a vivid imagination, Mr Lombard. I only wish youd use it fruitfully instead of in being obnoxious. I fail to understand your purpose in this. Still, say what youre owed if you still wish to be paid or get out, all right? |
I guess the news youd sent me after Friedman didnt go down too well, eh? |
Whatever the reason, Im sorry I did. Goodbye, Mr Lombard. I believe you know your way out. |
You knew he had nothing to do with your brothers disappearance, didnt you? |
Huh! Dont you recall convincing me he had? You should learn to live with your mistakes, Mr Lombard. There is some merit in it. |
I take it you learnt to live with yours then. Take it all the minddulling pills in your medicine cabinet are surplus to your wellbeing... |
How... When did you... |
It must be tough being married to Adonis to end up sleeping alone every night. Sleep must be hard coming. Whats harder? The thought of the fine litter you two could have bred if? Or imagining what he does with his children? |
Tell me, did he kill his little victims too? |
No! |
What do you mean, No, Mrs De Moraes? |
My brother hung himself. |
Does the name Pierre Dreyer mean anything to you? Hes a client of mine and a friend of your husband. |
Leon hung himself. |
Adonis thought your brothers bodyd be found reasonably quickly when he hung it in Epping Forest, didnt he? Seemed like a good idea. An exjunkie, obsessed with death; the perfect candidate for suicide. He just forgot one thing: forest ramblers are rare during your average blustery English November. An Englishman might have thought of that, but a Brazilian... |
Leon hung himself... |
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