Murders in the Rue Morgue Page #2

Oh, Camille, I love you.

And I love you, too, Pierre.

No!

No! No!

No!

A lady

in distress?

Who are you?

Come with me.

Where?

My carriage.

No! No!

Why are you trembling

at my touch?

Your hand is cold.

It chills me.

Come.

I will help you.

No.

Come.

Be patient.

Are you in pain,

mademoiselle?

It will only last

a little longer.

Oh.

Ah, you are stubborn. Hush!

It will only last

one more minute,

then we shall see.

We shall know

if you are to be

the pride of science!

Oh, hush, hush!

Now, mademoiselle.

Now.

The clots.

The black spots.

Rotten blood!

You.

Your blood is rotten.

Black as your sins.

You cheated me.

Your beauty was a lie.

Dead?

You are...

You're dead.

Janos, Janos.

Get rid of it.

Get it away.

Will my search ever end?

Three this week.

Three.

Women, all of them.

Life is hard.

The river is kind.

The river is soft.

It rocks them to sleep.

And asks no pay.

Three women.

Always small.

Always young.

A man?

A woman.

Age?

Oh, any, 1,000 or 30.

Cause of death?

Drowning.

Profession?

Yes.

Identification?

None, she was naked.

Number 13.

Well, Monsieur Dupin,

what brings you here so late?

The two women.

What about them?

Monsieur,

would you be good enough

to show them to me once more?

If you wish, Monsieur Dupin,

I will show you three.

Three?

You mean,

there's been another one?

Yes.

Let me see her.

Yes.

There's the body.

The same marks.

Marks?

See them?

They're on the others, too.

Monsieur,

you must let me

take a specimen

of this woman's blood.

Impossible.

Since that whole body

disappeared last week,

the inspector is very strict

about medical students.

Then you bring it to me.

It's against all regulations.

Tomorrow night, huh?

Good night, monsieur.

The macaroni's ready.

And the coffee's getting cold.

Aren't you going

to eat your lunch?

You give five francs

to that old ghoul

down at the morgue

and... and I have to

turn magician and pull

a loaf of bread out of my nose

so we can eat.

Dupin, you might

at least have the decency

to come to the table.

Pierre?

Why don't you go down

to the morgue and live there,

instead of making a morgue

out of our home.

Vampire.

Vulture.

Body snatcher.

Say something.

Come in.

Speak of the devil.

Good morning, monsieur.

You've got it, eh?

Yes, monsieur, I've got it.

But who knows,

at the price of my job,

perhaps.

I am a married man, monsieur.

I have children.

And if the police

should even suspect

that I was holding anything

back from them,

I should be put behind bars.

No use, no use,

we haven't a centime.

Yes, monsieur.

I must owe you the money.

The morgue

must give us credit.

Then, I will trust you.

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