Requiem pour une tueuse (2011) Script

Your concert will be great.

You've progressed a lot.

Don't worry.

I'm not worried.

You studied violin as a kid?

No. But I wish I had.

After the concert, I want to quit.


I'm sick of the violin.

I want to learn judo, like my girlfriend Fanny.


Not bad.

You rehearsed it?

For hours!

It's good, especially as she only sees me once a month.

And that's tough to fit in.

Giorgio, she's an enigma.

My oldest student, the most gifted, at the time.

Due for a great career, but she was the only one who didn't want one.

We can finally get going.

Their damn Mass is in 3 days.

Leaves us little time.

His blood?


It's all we have.

The Serbs failed to kill him 4 years ago.

This shit cost me a fortune.

Had it analyzed?

By 2 labs!

To find out he's allergic to cat hairs!

We just know he'll be there Thursday night, in the VIP section.

How do you do it!

My grandpa's secret for longevity:

"A lemon a day keeps the doctor away."

Our Lord in His great mercy gave us a sacred gift: free will.

All of us be we prince or pauper, can use it to understand and not to judge.

To use it to love and not condemn.

That was Our Savior's message.

In time we'll be forgotten, as will be...

There he is!

3rd bench, 4th from the left.

If they stick to the ritual, our guy gets the 13th wafer.

"Our days are like a shadow, there's no abiding, the seal is affixed, no one returns."

Hope they're not sloppy.

Not their style.

What did you put in it?

Something slow, infallible.

The heart implodes 6 hours later.

Wash your fingers.

They're moving, hurry!

I'm trying hard.

10... 11... 12...

Christ's body...

Christ's body...

Shit, there's one missing in the line!

Guy who's asleep.


Christ's body...


Christ's body...


Christ's body...


Our nearest platform is 350 nautical miles off the coast.

The cost of transporting the crude oil by tanker to our refinery in Aberdeen would come to 17 millions pounds sterling a year.

The construction of a pipeline running from the platform to the refinery would reduce by a factor of 5 the costs related to transport, stockage and maintenance.

Geological surveys show there's only one possible route for this pipeline, any deviation from the initial line will put a serious strain on the operation, making it unprofitable.

The only remaining obstacle now is a legal one.

The court case we recently lost against Mr. Child deprived us of the right to purchase the last remaining parcel of land.

Without it, works cannot continue and have been postponed indefinitely.

That's fine.

Thank you.

That will be all.

And all because of a few barrels of whisky...

This pipeline... is a great opportunity for our shareholders, Reverend...

British Oil cannot afford to let it go.

Especially as things stand.

We have to have that land.

At all costs.

But how?

All the official channels have failed.

And you've just lost your final appeal against Child.

You have "carte blanche", Reverend.

Whatever it costs.

Providing of course that...

Alexander Child's death passes for an accident.

You always delivered impeccably, I grant you, your reputation remains unblemished on the market.

But your prices are way out of line.

Your employers can pay it.

Lucretia's the best for the job, you know that.

I'll get you your money.

But for that price, it must be flawless.


It's been ages.

You knew some day she'd need you again.

I'm disappointed, Rico.

10 years ago you'd have put up a fight.

10 years ago you'd have come alone.

You don't look well, Rico.

Can't be your 2 years on the lam!

For a top operative, it was a breeze.

Lack of sleep, Colonel, that's all.

I know.

10 years fieldwork in the worst spots on earth, the best resume in the outfit...

Why did you flip out?

I didn't.

"Insubordination, abetting disobedience, striking a superior, going underground..."

A bit much for a top agent with steel nerves.

All that only concerned Seymour and me.

We differ on how to do our job.

Why am I here, Colonel?

You could've nabbed me ages ago. I was easy to find.

Why now?

To re-enlist you, Rico.

You'll start with a clean slate.

But this time, no blunders.

You must be kidding!

I'm quitting.

I'm through with all that.

My daughter's 8, I can't tell her what I do.

I lie to my mom when she babysits, I lie to everyone. I can't handle it any more.


I need this contract.

For you it's a cinch, and you'll be rich for life.

I need an extension.

Postpone your retirement for 2 weeks. That's not asking for much!

Do me a last favor, shit!

Promise me one thing.

I'm listening.

I want to know everything.

About what?

What my mother never told me.


But when this contract's done!

Our secret service has hunted him for 3 years. Here's all we've got.

Operates flawlessly, face and identity unknown.

He's a ghost. Highest paid hitman on the market.

He's zapped the most important people in Europe: ministers, industrialists, military brass...

We must get rid of him.

How do I find him?

Reverend Van Kummant: a criminal with a white collar.

Handles all the biggest contracts in Europe.

Gets the deals, finds the performers, an agent for hitmen.

Alexander Child.

He's your target.

He's Scottish, he'll sing with you.

Your name's Anna Krups, like the coffee machines.

You're French with a German mom, it's all in there.

A top Austrian talent agency got you the role.

Sold you as a promising contralto.

It's been so long...

You'll manage. I'm not asking you to pilot a chopper.

Singing used to be your job. You were good at it.

If you find it tough, say you'll loosen up for the performances.

If you waste Child before the premiere, you won't have to sing a note.

He's Alexander Child, 37, Scottish opera singer.

Van Kummant was paid a fortune to get rid of him.

We think he put our killer on the case.

A godsend for us to get rid of him.

The contract states Child must be eliminated during the performance of Handel's Messiah in 2 weeks at a festival in Switzerland.

You head there tomorrow.

Find out who wants to rub out Child.

And leave no traces...

Mr de Ferrieres?

Yes. To whom do I have the honor?

Just an average music lover.

But a great fan of your fine festival.

So you're a man of taste, Father?

I try to be, Mr de Ferrieres.

I try...

I believe tomorrow, at Ermeux, you start rehearsing Handel's Messiah.

That's right.

The young contralto who'll be singing for you is a dear friend.

Please keep me regularly informed of all her actions.

She has to perform a delicate task for me.

I need to know that it's going as planned.

Admit you'll be ideally placed.

You're joking, Father?

Alas no, my son.

It's out of the question.

I understand your bitterness, Mr de Ferrieres.

You were hit by recent stock market disasters.

Your bank says you lost a million Euros.

It means bankruptcy.

Think of the festival, your chateau, your parents, currently on holiday in Sicily.

Do this favor for us and things will remain as before.

Period paintings, 18th century parquet floor, you're in the Hall of Princes, Anna.

But Princes of what, no one knows.

Vittorio's room, our tenor.

The doors don't have locks: they weren't restored.

But don't worry, there are no robberies here, this is Switzerland.

Alexander's room, the basso.

A superb voice.

Olga's room, currently singing in Berlin.

She'll join us at the end of rehearsals.

Finally your room, Anna.


The stalls and the balcony are under the castle.

Not a high room, but the acoustics are perfect.

The musicians get here today, 1st rehearsal at 3 p.m.

Look around. Feel at home.

Thanks. But be on time.

The conductor's French and odious.

That may be linked.


My great-great-grandfather Bartolomeo Biamonti, sung for Maestro Giuseppe Verdi in Rome, 150 years ago.

His son was a tenor, and his son's son, my father was a tenor, and I'm a tenor.

It's in our blood. So it goes!


We Biamontis have sung Othello, Don Carlo for 5 generations.

It's in us! It's stronger than us.

And my son Guido...

He prefers soccer.

Doesn't like singing.

So, Maestro, how's the new vintage?

Not so hot. Lower than last year.

You're tough, all the singers are excellent.

The basso maybe, the tenor tends to bellow...

We can't judge the contralto: she didn't sing a note.

How come?

She's congested, it's the altitude.

Needs a few days for her body to adapt.

She must be ready for the premiere!

The premiere, yes...

Bravo for what you did.


Impressive for a first rehearsal.

It was easy, I've sung the Messiah so often.

It was good anyway.

Your voice'll be okay?

I hope so. Usually it only takes a few days, but I'll be ready for the premiere.

To the premiere.

The premiere.

Yes, you're right. Sure.



In fact, it's Austrian sparkling wine.

Undrinkable, but it's all there was.


The guitarist?


That's the spring.

The fields of barley, which need to be replanted.

The stills...

The distillery...

It's all yours?

Yes, they were going to scrap it all.

Cost you a small fortune?

A 15-year career, an inheritance, lots of banks.

I put in all I had.

You'll freeze in the Highlands!

My dad worked 37 years in that distillery.

He lost his job when it closed.


What are you doing here?

I opened the wrong door!

I'm sloshed, it's late, I goofed...

It wasn't closed so I went in, I watched you sleep, I admit.

But that's all, I was leaving.

How did you get this role?

Why? You're hurting me!

How did you get this role?

Through Hartmann's. My agents in Vienna.

Who handles you there?

That hurts!

Who handles you there?


Why haven't you sung? Can't be the altitude.

I'm being operated in a month.


On both vocal cords.

I may never sing again.

Wanted a last try, but I was wrong.

So there...

You bastards! I'm in deep shit!

We only ask you to watch her.


It's madness! What if she spots me?

Lucretia mustn't spot you.

It's very important. For your safety.

I think I can help you.

There's a way to get round the nodules.

Echo the notes higher. It's a trick, but later you'll even manage to sing with a cold.

And it'll enable you to hold out here.

Worth a try, right?

Wild boars did that.

There's an old shotgun in the workshop.

Clean it, and shoot them.


"Mentally retarded. Reinsertion via gardening work."

No, I quit. I'm going home.

Find another guitarist. I'm out of here.

I'm too old for this shit.

I'll re-brief you, Rico: no one leaves till the job's done. Period.

Got it?

Colonel, I'd quit that stuff.

You hired me back: a bad idea.

I'm quitting, with or without your consent.

Without my consent you get 5 years for your misdeeds, and behind bars.

Seen Ottmar?

I know, Mrs. Litbarsky. It's his usual trick.

He'll run away again. It's in his file.

We agreed to hire people from your center. So what?

You're a pain!

The premiere is this week, I need a full staff!

Tell Ottmar when he returns, I won't need him this month.

I'll hire an outsider for the festival.

How do I proceed?

As usual, but this time you'll be alone.

It's your MIDI-keyboard. All singers have one, enables them to work anywhere.

Inhalation, ingestion. Fatal even in micro-doses.

And the antidote.

How's your voice?

Coming back gradually.

But I'd rather not take any chances. I'll be in shape for the premiere.

That's what matters, Anna.

Mind us tasting two vintages?

Not at all.

The 2000 is very different. More open.

Gentlemen, perfect timing.





Anna, gentlemen...

To the Messiah.

Slightly acidic. A bit unpleasant.

Are you sure?

May I?

Yes, it's strange...

Certainly, I agree.

Must be a bad bottle, I'll open another.

Shouldn't we taste these nectars with food?

It's hard to drink without eating.

You're right, they'll open up around a table.

Excuse me.

Allow me a little whim, sir?

With pleasure.

I've never drunk wine from my birth year.

Might be the right time to try it?

Then I'll have to ask you your age...

I was born in 1982.

A fabulous vintage.

I'm all for it.

You're lucky, Anna. I think I still have one bottle.


I'll sit down, because...

Anna, to the year you were born!



You all right, miss?


Join me for lunch.

Thai shrimp on the sunlit terrace.

I'm rehearsing with Alex in 15 minutes, and I've already nibbled.

Too bad. Another day?


Work hard.

I'm not up to it.

Too much pressure.

I quit.

I'll tell De Ferrieres to replace me.

You'll make it.

What we did with the piano was great.

I can't fake it for the whole work.

With the cuts you only have 3 solos.

It's not like singing Wagner.

If you rest at the intermission, you'll recover.

And you'll get by.

It's too risky.

We rehearse every day till the premiere.

It's not risky, I promise you.

It's a geisha trick.

The target must be asleep.

You insert it fast and deep into the eardrum, upwards toward the brain.

It pierces the nerve centers, and leaves no trace.

The barman's going wild downstairs.

40-year old Glenffidich.

You can't miss that.

Good night, Rico.

Good night.

Oh, shit. I'm really sorry.

That's okay.

I'm coming.

What a shame.

It started so well.

The premiere is in 3 days.

She still has some time.

It's too late.

The poor results so far made my clients change their mind.

Change their mind?

I did my best, but you're off the job.

And that's final.

And Lucretia?

Her relationship with the target is a problem.

My clients fear she found out too much.

She was a fine professional.

I have lousy nights in the mountains.

You think you'll sleep like a log, but you're restless, you toss and turn...

It's the altitude.

Ours is a weird job, huh?

I mean, you and me...

It's true, always on the road, never the same story, or the same people, no involvements with anyone, lying.

Lying all the time.

To your family, friends, to everyone.

My dad, for instance...

For 20 years he's thought I'm a mechanic.

Pretty scary.

What do you dish up for your near and dear?

What do you tell Grandma at Christmas by the fire, when by the tree she asks you how you are?

Why you're still single? And not yet married?

What do you say?

That you kill people for dough?

That in your job you can't have a family?

That it's unmanageable?

You tell her that?

Of course not.

You say work's going fine, money's coming in.

Grandma's happy, she smiles, reassured, she'll hold out till next year.

By then you'll dish out some new crap.

No, for sure...

Ours ain't an easy job.

It's best if nothing happens to Alexander.

But you figured that out.

My soprano stuck in Germany, a vanishing gardener...

And next?

The percussionist in hospital!

It's a bit much!

He fell into the pit and broke his hip!

As I said, we'll have to replace him.

And I'm snowed under.

Olga only gets one rehearsal before the premiere!

Not much. So it goes!


A disaster: your agent's due here.

He's at the airport.

My agent?

The Hartmann Agency snubs us for 8 years, now Spielmeyer's coming to inspect us!

We don't have a full staff, the choir isn't ready yet, it's too soon.

They're out of their minds!

Mr Spielmeyer!

Hello. Xavier de Ferrieres, the festival director.

Mr. Spielmeyer, my agent.

Delighted. Likewise. Good trip?

Yes, thanks.

Hello, Anna. Hello.

Glad you came so soon.

You'll enjoy the chateau.

Send up my bags, I'll see my room later.

Of course.

I'm late: nothing went as planned, it happens.

I'll catch up, there's still time.

Lucretia, I'll keep it simple.

We're off the job.


You've been here 2 weeks, premiere's in 2 days.

You screwed up.

They hired another killer, with a new contract.

To kill Alexander... and you!

That's why I came.

We gotta scram, and hide you.

Till this blows over.

We leave tomorrow morning.

But I'll try to find out who it is.

Ludovic Blin, our conductor.

Mr. Spielmeyer, Anna's agent.


We can't discuss Anna: nobody's heard her sing.

She'll be fine for the premiere, she's a real pro.

I hope so.

Seafood in the land of fondue, hats off.

A fine idea, Mr. Child.

I owe you for the Chablis.

I hear you're into food and drink, buying a distillery in Scotland.

You're well informed.

Scotland's very pretty.

So it's done? You're the owner?

It's done. After a long legal battle.

The stills will be running this fall.

Will you find time to sing?

Alas, no.

You're quitting?

This is my last contract.

If you change your mind, let me be your agent.

For Hartmann's, of course.

What about tonight?

A pro won't strike till tomorrow.

He'll need time to case the set up.

We'll be gone.

We've never lost a contract.

I'd love to waste the bastard who replaced us, but we split at dawn.


See you tomorrow? Tomorrow, yes.

I'm bushed.

Didn't sleep all night.

I'm due for a nap.

But first we gotta talk.

About your pal who's coming to zap everyone, the new guy.

Spill the beans.

I'm listening.

I know nothing about him or I'd have taken care of him.

Who are you? A cop?


How'd you find out?

We knew of the contract on the Scot, so we got nosy.

We had nothing on you, at first.

What do you want?

To bust the guy who's replacing you.

As you're out of it, I'll leave you alone.

I could use help to nab the bastard.

You can guess what he'll do.

Basically you need us.

I've got a fat file on you and her, photos, fingerprints, DNA, the works.

I mailed it to myself at HQ, it'll be there tomorrow.

A phone call, or if I'm missing, and it'll be opened.

Only fair, no?

If you cross me, I'll drown you in the pond.

You fucked up good on this one.


Your pal Rico's a cop. Came here to nab you.

But I did nothing.

He's watched you.

I know, he tried to warn me.

Were you gonna tell me, or wasn't that cool?

I'm sorry...

"Sorry"! You're a pain!

We're not leaving. Change of plans.

What? We can't, the cop's got us by the balls.

If we help him nab this guy, he'll spare us.

At least, I hope so...

We'll be lucky to get out of this mess alive.

Who's the conductor?

A Frenchman.

Very talented, you'll see. Everyone wants him.

A French conductor?

They exist?

The festival director?


The festival's his baby.

Too busy to be a hitman.

Unless he's been a dormant one for 8 years!

The conductor?

Same thing. Too competent, been on the circuit for ages. Unlikely.

The soprano?

She just got here, could be.

But I doubt it.

She's a diva. A real one.

The orchestra and the castle staff?

I searched. No one.

You didn't look hard enough!

Marco, the bass player. Too cool to be a concern.

Katarina, the new percussionist.

Came to replace the guy who fell into the pit.

Our best candidate.

Here's the diva. I gotta go.

"Unknown number. New Message."

"Who really is Anna Krups?"

I checked out Katarina's resume.

Said she interested me for Hartmann's.

Not a member of an orchestra, she's done replacements for 10 years in Germany.

First time she's worked in Switzerland.

Quite a cover.

We gotta dig deeper.

Can you do it?

I'll try.

"Unknown number. New Message."

"The truth is in the chapel."

"Fatal Injuries Military Weapon Ultra High Voltage"

Welcome to Ermeux Lyric Festival.

Tonight, excellent musicians will present us Handel's Messiah, conducted by Ludovic Blin.

We'll find him, don't worry.

With Rico up front and me in the wings, you're safe.



Why are we still here?

We're looking.

Must I tell you again?

Stick with the drummer gal. She's all we got for now.

The Ermeux festival is celebrating its 8th birthday.

8 years of joy, pleasure and immense pride.

Thanks to you. Thanks to the artists.

I almost canceled tonight's performance, as the tragedy that hit us is deep and unbearable.

But we all feel that Alexander Child would have wanted us to go on.


It is to him that we dedicate our premiere of Handel's Messiah.

The task of the singer Tyler Edwards, who generously agreed to join us, will be difficult.

With Anna Krups, Olga Babayova and Vittorio Biamonti, he will, I'm sure, do honor to the man he's replacing, who we so deeply miss.

Thank you.

Intermission in 5 minutes.

Ladies and gentlemen, the show resumes in 15 minutes.

I thought you were pretty good.

How would you know?

I'm your agent!

I have to get back there.


It's not her, we're wasting time.


Then who is it?

There's nobody in the wings.

Think, dammit! You've been here from the start.

They changed no one except the percussionist?

Someone on the staff?

A cook?

A gardener!

They must've changed a gardener.

Stay tuned.

Yes, the new gardener, the one who replaced... Yes, I see.

He asked me for a seat for the premiere, I couldn't refuse.

He was doing a good job.

I put him there.

He'd never seen an opera.

"Her bottle."

Here, I found this.

He did it for fake papers, in case things went wrong.

He didn't have time to use it.

You should know that he was a real dodo, a real goof-off.

Any stunt you did with him was doomed to failure.

He was so nuts he tried to run a cop roadblock on a bicycle.

But one day I needed him.

I was a kid who wanted to be big time.

Only he'd go along with me.

We hit a Brink's van, a classy stunt then.

Of course, it went sour.

The guards fired at us, we panicked...

I killed one.

Your dad got nabbed, I got away.

He never ratted on me.

The judge gave him 20 years.

I shoulda turned myself in to get him out.

6 months later, he killed himself in his cell.

You weren't 10 yet.

You became my debt.

Your mom only saw him once after your birth.

She never knew.

He's buried in a Paris burb.

Go visit him, he'd like that.


Now you know everything.

Don't know if it's better.

Leaving again?

For long?

Not for long.

Soon things'll change. I'll have more time for you.

Do your best.

Everyone does.

Mrs. Jacquet always says that.

Who's Mrs. Jacquet?

My teacher.

No, we must find her. And get rid of her.

No, it's out of question. It's too risky!

If my clients learn she's still alive, it's a catastrophe.

I don't want to know! Get rid of her! And fast!

Today the group British Oil presented their construction project to the press for a huge pipeline to link their northsea platforms to their refinery in Scotland.

The construction should take four years and cost several millions pounds sterling.

Lord Mulligan the president of the group declared it to be a unique opportunity for our country.

What can I do for you, my son?

Absolve me, Father.

If you can.

I missed you.

There's a gift in the car.