Heartbeat Detector

HEARTBEAT DETECTOR

I worked for seven years

in a multinational company.

I'll call SC Farb.

It was a German company

with a large Parisian subsidiary.

I was the company psychologist

in the Human Resources Department.

I had two responsibilities:

staff selection

and running seminars for executives.

My seminars were based

on the new belief

that motivation

lay at the heart of productivity.

We used a combination of role play,

group dynamics,

and old oriental methods

which encouraged people

to push themselves to the limit.

I've seen grown men

cry like little boys.

I've seen people breaking down,

going into violent rages.

I had to guide them

towards my only goal:

making them soldiers,

knights of the business world,

highly competitive subalterns.

Hey, how are you doing?

How are you?

-You weren't at the coffee machine?

-I was afraid I'd be late.

Is there a meeting?

No. Don't worry.

Betrand sent us a postcard.

-Where is he?

-In Tokyo.

It's rained every day.

He doesn't care.

He's only there for the girls.

All they do is smile.

It gets annoying after a while.

He found a bar

with transparent floors

where he can check out

the waitresses' butts.

Then what does he do?

Nothing. You know him.

Have a nice day!

The company was pulling itself

out of a difficult period.

A restructuring plan had forced

the closure of a production line.

Staff had been cut

from 2500 to 1200.

The management brought me in

to establish evaluation criteria

other than age and seniority.

But I'll come to my part

in this later.

It's too difficult to explain

chronologically.

Mr. Rose is sorry.

Do you mind waiting?

This way, please.

Come and sit down.

What I'm about to tell you

is completely confidential.

The head office has asked me

to sort out a worrying situation.

It's rather delicate.

How do you get on with the CEO?

I don't know him personally.

We see each other in meetings,

but apart from that,

all we do is say hello

and make small-talk.

We have a strictly

professional relationship.

I said this was confidential.

As a psychologist, I'm sure

you know what that word implies.

You're the only person

I wish to speak with about this.

Concerns have been voiced

about what you might call

the "mental state" of our CEO.

They were brought to us

by one of his secretaries

and confirmed by some

worrying behavior at work.

I've known Mr. Jst

for nearly 10 years.

We worked together

at our German HQ.

He hasn't seemed himself

for a while.

It's just a feeling,

but for those who know him,

the difference is striking.

I say "difference".

I hesitate to say "illness".

It's up to you to tell me.

You're the specialist here.

Mr. Jst is a cornerstone

of our operation and recovery

in France.

The Germans want

a detailed report on him.

Like everyone else,

I fervently hope it's favorable.

You're free to proceed

as you see fit,

but this takes priority.

You'll obviously have

to get to know Mr. Jst better.

I'll tell his secretary.

Be discreet.

She's still very fond of her boss.

I know, Mr. Rose told me.

Tomorrow, around 9:00 PM.

-Do you know the Caf Beaubourg?

-Yes.

-Until tomorrow, then.

-See you tomorrow.

-Hello.

-Hi, Ali.

Put that poison out or I'm off.

You're right, it's gone.

If we went to your place

would you sing for me?

If you want.

What would you like to hear?

-Your voice.

-You're hearing it now.

I want to see you sing.

Do you do it at the piano?

Sometimes.

I do it standing up, too.

I can sing sitting or lying down.

Why?

And naked?

Why not.

Like most people do,

in the shower or bath.

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