Revenge Of The Pink Panther Page #3

And we are certainly glad

to see you.

Wait a moment!

You know me.

I'm Chief lnspector Clouseau

of the surete.

And I am Officer Bardot.

But you can call me Brigitte.

Listen, Brigitte. You are making

an understandable mistake.

Don't let my legs fool you.

I'm really a man. Listen!

The palace flag is lowered

to half-mast.

The president has declared a day

of national mourning.

Only a few hours ago...

the great detective stood

in this very courtyard...

and was decorated by the president...

for outstanding service

to his country.

According to the coroner's report...

Chief lnspector Clouseau

was probably dead...

before his car hit the telephone pole...

and burst into flames.

The president called me at 6:00

this morning.

A dozen countries have offered the

services of their finest detectives...

but the president

made it painfully clear...

that this must be solved by Frenchmen,

and quickly...

or we can all hand in

our resignations.

I spoke with Dr. Laprone

at the hospital...

and he assures me that Dreyfus

is completely cured.

It's amazing.

I've seen some lunatics

in my time.

They were all pikers compared

with Dreyfus. He was like a wild animal!

Didn't he actually bite you?

Oh, yes. On the leg.

I had to take rabies shots

just in case.

The doctor swears

that his recovery is complete.

He said that in the last 12 hours,

Dreyfus has literally become a new man.

Thank God for that because we need him.

If anyone knows about Clouseau

and who might have murdered him...

that man is former

Chief lnspector Charles Dreyfus.

Isn't it fantastic, Doctor?

Reinstated at my former rank

with no loss of pay or social benefits.

Yes. It could actually be called

a psychic rebirth.

I am in your debt.

I shall be eternally grateful.

I only helped.

I led the way.

But in the final analysis,

it was your victory, Charles.

Our victory, Paul.

But only at the expense of another.

Huh? Oh, Clouseau, you mean.

It could be said that he died

so that you might live.

I wish I could feel sorry.

You feel no guilt?

None.

To be honest,

when I first heard he was dead...

there were a few moments...

when I was actually convinced

I was in a state of grace.

Is that wrong?

It isn't a matter of right or wrong.

Look, I hated him.

He literally drove me out of my mind,

as you know.

Isn't it natural that

I should feel happiness, even joy...

at the thought of him being dead,

out of the way and gone forever?

Natural, yes.

But there is a danger

that such feelings might promote guilt.

Clouseau could come back

and haunt you.

- I have no guilt.

- Not now.

Not ever. Clouseau is gone,

and I am free forever.

Now, have a cigar.

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