Anatomia zla (2015) - full transcript

We're on the position.

Where are you?

Approaching the village.

They're running away!

11 o'clock. Shoot!

As you can see,
nothing of interest.

It's relatively quiet up here,

if such a thing can be said
about Afghanistan at all.

And the incident last week?

Is that why you've come?

I saw a report on the news
in Kabul.



We received a tip-off about
Taliban hiding out in the village...

Our convoy was attacked,
we lost a soldier...

Shooting ensued, during
which three civilians were killed.

Killed by a sniper's bullets.

War.

Mistakes happen.

In July, the Americans bombed a Taliban village.
Turned out to be the wrong village.

The sniper killed woman and an 2 old men.

- He could see who he was shooting at.
- Yes.

The prosecutor's carried out an initial investigation.
It was early morning. There was a sandstorm.

Seems to be an unfortunate accident.

Could I talk to the soldier?

Sergeant Waśko....

Just leave him in peace, please.



The boy's taking it hard. Besides...

Why write about it?

He's got family, friends, neighbours...

Local television's reporting on this...

News like that's the daily fare here.
But no one in Poland watches it.

Colonel... Thank you...

My name's Matula, I'm a journalist...
I'd like to talk to you...

- What about?
- About the incident... I understand...

Fuck off.

I want to help you...

get it all sorted out in your own conscience...

Get the fuck out of here. Now!

A pound of onions, please.

Choose yourself a melon.
They're ripe and juicy.

If the Lord God's to be thanked for
anything, then it's for the onion.

And for the tomato, too. He must
have created them on the first day,

While His heart was still in the job.
Nothing else's that perfect.

Why're you squeezing that?

Last time, you gave me a bagful
of soft ones. Half-rotten.

Half-rotten? Me? You must've bought them
somewhere else.

If there's something
you don't like, then take yourself off.

Fuck your tomatoes! What a nerve!

INSPIRED BY REAL EVENTS

- Why are you feeding my cat?
- He's hungry.

You don't feed him.

He's supposed to catch mice.
He doesn't when he's full.

He's right. Cats are intelligent species.

It's my cat! Don't feed him!
Or I'll tell my son-in-law!

Yes,

I can. Got it.

Why all that fuss?

Couldn't you
just have called me into the office?

Get in. I could have, then
I would have.

Head for the lake.

Cell phone.

The cap.

- How many years did you still have to go?
- Seven.

Quite some time.

If you'd done the full stretch, you'd have
come out an old codger.

I exercised in prison. Push-ups mostly.

We're watching you.

You've calmed down. You don't mix up
with your old mates.

They're all dead.

Or in the slammer.

You were left alone.

But there was quite a ball.

All the papers were writing about it.
Sieniawa turned into a national hero

and Seweryn grassed you all up.
Don't you have a grudge against him?

Seweryn didn't know shit.

He knew enough to get the lot of you
sent down.

And now he's resting nice
and easy somewhere in the sun.

Come on...

Don't you envy him?

Doesn't it pay to make friends with us?

And here's you running around after the
whores in a country covered with snow.

What's all this about, Mr Prosecutor, sir?
Because I’m a bit lost.

- You're needed.
- Me? I’m still necessary to someone?

A hundred thousand dollars.

And a passport to a new life.

I’m not up to it any more.

Prison did my nerves in.

So maybe you wouldn't like to go
back there?

It's that serious?

Who?

A prime pig.

One of your own?

What's going down? Civil war?

The lesser evil to prevent the greater.

I wouldn't know about that.

You're the prosecutor.
To me, evil's when someone's after my wallet.

You've got a point.

I’m not up to it. Really.
I’m out of the game.

You won't be alone.
We'll be helping you.

You'd be better to sort it on your own.

I’m not that powerful.

- Which is why you're needed.
- Really?

There's no way out.

The things went too far.

- Nothing's happened yet.
- Something's happened.

Our conversation.
It'd be enough to put you back in jail.

Get a grip on your nerves.
Maybe put In a bit of practice. Go back in shape.

May I?

A beer in the morning?

You're out?

Parole.

So what're you going to do?

You looking around for something?

Because we're kind of trying to get
something together here.

Retirement.

You've got more brains
than all the rest of us.

Too right.

Which is why I’m off to the sun
living off what the police didn't find.

- They'll let you leave the country?
- I’m not going to ask.

Well, if needs be, you know where to find us.

Excuse me, sir.

- What?
- Could we have our ball back?

And what do you say?

Sorry?

We don't play football in the street.
That's what playgrounds are for.

In the street you're exposing
yourselves to danger.

There are cars on the road.
An accident waiting to happen, right?

I’ll give you back the ball if you
promise that you'll go to the park.

We promise.

Well, all right then. I believe you.

Go fuck yourself, you wrinkly old git!

She OK?

I’ll be back in two hours.

Take it off.

And dance a bit.

You want me to dance?

What do you think?

That at my age,
I can get it up just like this?

Mrs. Wisniewska? Good morning!

Why, if it isn't you, Mr Trzeciak, sir!
I’d barely have recognized you!

And when you wasn't here, you was where?

I was in America, went there to work.
It's been a few years.

But that you never gave a sign of life?

There's me a thinking,
Dear God above, only let him not be in jail...

- But in America! Earning yourself some dough!
- Please, don't worry. We'll settle up.

Because that there forester, he wanted
to buy your boat, but I didn't sell him.

How would it have looked,
to sell someone else's property?

And how's my cabin?
Still standing?

Still standing,
no one's taken so much as a peep inside.

The fug must be something terrible.

So, how much do I owe you,
Mrs Wiśniewska?

I don't know, for them Good few years
while I’ve been watching your cabin...

Will that do?

I dunno... Seems a bit short to me...

Short? But how much work did
you have to do?

I kept an eye...

I mean you're after keeping all sorts of things here...
I saw for myself...

Not a word did I breathe.

I know you was in prison and not in any
America...

It was on the telly. And that you aren't no
Mr Trzeciak, but Mr Something with a Z. Karol Z,

they said, if I recall arightly.
AKA Lulek.

And I never said a word, not to anyone,
not to the police.

That's worth a few thousand,
I’d say, wouldn't you?

A few?

Fifteen?

Ten at the very least.

Don't blink!

Surely you can manage
a minute without blinking?

I can see hypertension and diabetes
in the fundus of the eye,

but you need to have a check-up.

Glasses aren't of the slightest help

I’ve never needed glasses.
I’ve always had 20/20 vision.

Always?

Have a look at your ID.
There's a rubric there. Says " date of birth".

And there's no cure for that.

Lulek? What are you doing here?

- It's Thursday.
- So what? You don't have to report in.

Didn't they tell you?

They've taken all your papers.

- They have?
- Well, yes.

Me, I’ve got nothing
to do with you any more.

You look like a harmless pensioner.

- I am a harmless pensioner.
- Open the trunk.

An AK 97. The latest model.

Confiscated, actually. From a smuggler.
Not registered anywhere. Try it for size.

And here's a pass to all the military ranges.

So you don't have to go hanging around
in the nearby forests.

Major Ziemowit Deląg?

Professional training officer for the Ministry.

Don't laugh. The fellow really exists.

Poor chap lost his pass.

Sergeant Stanisław Waśko, now free of the
charge of unintentional manslaughter,

agreed to appear in front
of Szczecin TV cameras.

Are you relieved now all the months
of uncertainty are over?

Relieved?

I don't feel anything at all.

The papers have written about me
like I was a murderer, and all of that for what?

I can't get a job, the army's discharged me,
my neighbours are ignoring me, and why?

There's a war, sandstorms cut everything
off from sight, and you might get wiped out

at any moment...

I only did my duty.

Good morning.

I’m looking for Stanisław.
Is he at home?

- Are you from the papers?
- God forbid.

I’m the father of one of his mates from the army.
My son sent it from Afghanistan.

The papers have been bothering him.

Just sniffing around for scandal
don't give a damn about human beings.

And the army was everything to him.

Ever since he was a child.
He grew up on the training grounds.

His father was an NCO in the sappers,
until he was killed by a mine himself.

Stasiek was ten when it happened.
And now newspapers...

That's what the world's come to, I’m afraid.

And Stasiek's working in the car wash,
his uncle gave him a job.

Shut that window!
The wash isn't done!

What time do you finish?

- Why?
- Got something to discuss.

What something?

Something that'll bring you a bit more
luck in life. What time do you finish?

- I’ve got a lunch break. At one.
- And where do you go for lunch?

Here.

ls there a bar over there?

- Yeah, at the square.
- Any good?

As good as any.

Well, then, allow me to invite you.
At one. Here's your tip.

All because of that son of a bitch.

There'd have been no tribunal
if it hadn't been for him.

And why did that fucker have it in for me?

Once he wrote it up, they had to launch
an investigation.

And then that prick came back again,
I asked him why he was doing it.

And he goes,

"It's a journalist's duty".
"The public has right to be informed,"

So I ask him if the same applies to the
fact that he shat himself.

Because he did when a grenade
went off a few metres away from him.

The whole company
was pissing itself laughing for a week.

- So maybe this is how he gets his revenge?
- Could be.

Fucking prick, ruining a man's life for nothing.

Because I didn't laugh at him.

I even felt sorry for him,

because, in his place,
maybe I’d have shat myself?

The shrapnel's whistling and if he hadn't
thrown himself on the ground...

Someone yells, " Grenade!", the bloke
throws himself down and craps himself on the fly.

For fuck's sake, the
fucking prick head fucker.

Don't swear so much. It's a sign of weakness.

Weakness? Everyone swears in the army.
And the officers are the worst.

Because they're afraid.
The whole time. They're afraid.

I’ll call you before long. Wait.

Matula! Andrzej!

Call for you!
On the city line!

Hello...?

Would you be interested in some
material on corruption in the City Hall?

Could be. What material?

Documents. All sorts. From the last two years.

- Bring it along. We'll have a look.
- Well, no, I’d rather not be seen.

Nothing to fear. Journalist's privilege
is an unbending rule here.

I’ve seen that go various ways too...
I’ve read about it...

You can have complete confidence in me.

I’ll leave you a few documents in your
office downstairs, in a red cardboard folder...

I’ll call tomorrow and if you're interested,
then I’ll hand over the rest.

As long as you guarantee me that the
whole thing'll come out...

I need to see what we've got first.
Call me on my mobile, OK?

- 885 904 904. Have you got that?
- I got it.

Hang on! Why? What's this about?

You don't need to know.

So what were you doing between 7
and 8 o'clock yesterday evening?

I’ve already told you. I was at home.

Can anyone corroborate that?

- My mother.
- Only your mother?

That's a bit weak.

Could you finally tell me
what this is all about?

"INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALIST BRUTALLY
GUNNED DOWN ON HIS OWN DOORSTEP".

It says they killed him in Szczecin?

Well, I didn't finish work until six---thirty.

I got cleaned up, changed and went home.

By what miracle am I supposed
to have got to Szczecin?

- Can someone corroborate that?
- The boss. And the guys at work.

But still, you'll admit that it could've
been you that shot him?

Because I’m getting the feeling that
being suspected hasn't shaken you?

I’m not surprised at all that someone's
finally blown him away.

He was a world---class scumbag.

An investigative journalist.

Who could've taken him out?

I don't know. Whole bunch of people, probably.

But they say you've threaten him, that there
Was a quarrel...

I might have told him I'll kill him one day...
Can I go now?

You can.

ls someone going to give me a lift home?

We don't have that kind of budget
to play with. Catch a bus.

I’m going to lodge a complaint.

The anti---terrorists broke into my home
and brutally beat me and my mother up.

There were no grounds
for that kind of behaviour.

In this case, you topped the list of suspects.

You could have called me in and
interviewed me like a human being

instead of demeaning my dignity and the
honour of the Polish Army soldier.

You're not a soldier any more.

And cut out the attitude, because
we haven't finished with you yet.

Fuck off, you sorry prick.

ls there anyone on the range?

Not a soul. They train in the mornings here.

It's not like that in Bydgoszcz. You have to
book the range a week in advance.

A driver brings him home in the evening.
Drives into the garage.

The gate opens automatically.

The driver walks through the side gate,
gets into his Opel and drives off.

In the morning drives out of the garage
with the boss. The car's got tinted windows.

There's no visual with him
in any situation.

The gate could be jammed.
Then he'd get out.

Then his driver would get out.

Sometimes he drives himself in the evening.
But he doesn't get out of the car.

He drives into the garage.
He drives out of the garage.

So it's a case of wait in the garage, then.

Which one?

His, at home? The one at Police
HQ? Or maybe the one at the Ministry?

Take your pick.

And there's me thinking that you're a pro.

Maybe he goes somewhere else
as well? Not just the garages?

It can't be some random spot.
It has to be planned and set up.

Action, evacuation. Without leaving
a trace of evidence.

Remember. You've only got one chance.
You screw up, the whole thing's fucked.

I need a lot more information.

We'll give you some.

Have a good look at him.

I might've seen him before. On TV.

Very likely. Anyway, remember him well.
His name's Siemiradzki. Like the painter.

Here's an advance. I imagine that
you'll be incurring some expenses.

And a bomb?

Wouldn't it be simpler
just to lay a charge, Mr Prosecutor, sir?

You must be joking?

Collateral damage.
Collateral victims. Fifty per cent certainty.

Shoot and evacuate.
As straightforward as it gets.

No one's come up with anything better.
Your specialty.

I don't know how you're envisaging it.
Am I supposed to follow him around or what?

Somehow, you never needed my advice
in order to wipe out half the bosses in Poland.

What did you tell your mother?

That there's a job coming up in Warsaw.

- And your boss at the car wash?
- Same thing.

Good.

You always need tell the truth as far as possible.

That way, there's
a chance of not losing track of the lies.

You'll be staying here.

It doesn't stand
out and you don't have to register.

Give me your phone.

Hey, hang on, just a minute...

That's how they located Bin Laden.

This is a prepaid phone. You'll be
phoning on only me. I’ve got the same.

No other calls,
so they can't get a fix on it.

- And who might be getting a fix on it?
- Don't be stupid.

Did they take you in
for questioning?

- Well, yes, but that was a total mistake.
- Not entirely.

- What do you mean, not entirely?
- You wanted revenge.

You could have hired someone to do the killing.
Me, for instance.

What do you mean, hire someone
to do the killing? Me?

They'll be watching you. Tracing
you. Then me. We met. We chatted.

But I don't have such a strong alibi.
I was in Szczecin at the time.

- You were?
- I was. Visiting my sister.

All right.

I haven't got a sister.

Are you taking the piss?

Try to go out as little as possible.
Don't wander round the hotel.

If you have to phone, do it from a pay phone.
I’ll pick you up tomorrow at three.

I’ll be waiting in the car park.

If we'd like to get some long distance training?

- No chance of that here.
- Where, then?

- Nowhere.
- On a training ground in Drawsko.

Am I supposed to call you "Major"?

Better not.
You may come out with that in the wrong company.

That was fast.

It's a good rifle. The best in Poland.

So what's this all about?

I can't tell you. Yet.

You can't tell me what I’m doing here?

You've got a chance of getting back
into the military. That's all.

- To Afghanistan?
- No. In a different unit.

So that's why we was training on the range?

Don't say 'we was'.

'That's why we were training'
is how you say it in Polish.

What's wrong with 'was'?
That's how people normally talk.

Because it's ugly. And what's the singular
of 'we was training' going to be?

Huh?

I were training? And that's fine too, in
your opinion, is it?

I were training?

According to the archives
fifty years ago

this house should be dismantled

Give me back my wallet!

Easy.

You want it easy?

Are you OK?

Could I come in and tidy myself up?
I can't show myself in reception like this.

Sure.

That was hard!

Thank you for saving me.

I heard screaming, so I went outside.

Normally, no one'd do that here.

That bastard could butcher me and
nobody'd shift their arse.

Did you take his wallet?

What wallet? He didn't have a wallet.

He just cooked that up so he
wouldn't have to pay me.

Well? How do you want it?

I... don't know...

All right. First, I’ll give you a blow job
and then you can think it over.

OK.

- Get packing.
- Just what's going on exactly?

A guy beaten up. Any minute now,
he'll sober up and be here with the police.

Or with his mates. Get yourself to the car!

Nothing that terrible happened...

Shut it.
I can't let you out of my sight for a minute.

He'd have killed her...

And what's that to you?
You want to fix the whole world?

You're not happy with it like it is?
There's been a few like that already

starting with Jesus Christ. But somehow,
none of them was all that successful.

Most of them ended badly, I’d say.

You'll be sleeping here.

Will you just tell me what's this all about?
Because it's slowly beginning to piss me off.

You listen to me, you little shit.

Either you do what I say and maybe
you'll make something of yourself,

or you'll be washing cars to the end
of your days. Well?!

You're free to choose.

But I’d rather know
why I have to hide away.

- I haven't done anything wrong.

- But you will.

Are you listening to that?

I can't stand silence at home.

Maybe we could watch something else?

A film or a serial. Something cheerful...

I don't watch films, either.

Those actors are just faking.
They don't know shit about life themselves.

And that lot aren't faking?

Them? Nah. They're just lying.

Yeah, right. I can't bear watching them.

Nobody can.

Someone votes for them.

They don't just materialise out of the blue.

What difference does it make who we vote for?
No, actually, maybe there is one difference.

It's better if the ones who've already
been there stay there.

They've already managed to steal enough.
They're not so greedy as the new ones.

He who steals once will steal more and more.

Nobody ever has enough.

- Something urgent?
- Urgent? My question precisely.

This isn't a matter that can be sorted out
from one day to the next.

- Stateside, it'd be history by now.
- But this is Poland.

I know. But my money's American.

I'm working on it.

I've got the best professional in the country.
But it needs to be set up properly.

This is a highly advantageous deal for Poland.
And for me.

I'm not letting myself be cut out
of it on account of one shitter.

And measures need to be this... drastic?
Can't it be sorted amicably? Normally?

Just pay someone off?
Even a million wouldn't hurt you.

Not me.

He's fixated on wiping me out.
He tried it once before, in Krakow, ten years ago.

I put the stoppers on his career for a while.
But that was then.

I don't have that kind of pull in the
government any more.

Now he's more a politic than policeman.
You could persuade him to see reason for sure.

I can't risk it. The merest shadow of suspicion
and I'm out of the deal and half a billion dollars.

Don't smoke in here.

We'll need to lay a false trail.

Best open an account in his name,

somewhere on the Caymans and pay
in twenty grand. As a bare minimum.

- What's here?
- He's got a mistress.

And that mistress lives here.
In a flash apartment on the top floor.

Does he park by the building?
Get out of the car?

He drives into the underground garage.
Takes the lift up.

Might be possible to hide somewhere
in the garage...

Risky. He comes here with the driver.

With a driver to visit his mistress?

He wants to have a drink, right? And
the outfit's drivers, they're discreet.

- The lift?
- I'll show you something. Come on.

She's an opera singer. Performs abroad non--stop.
She's rarely in Poland.

But when she is...
then Siemiradzik's comes calling every evening.

In love...?

If you saw her...

Quite a piece of tail. Got a
pair of lungs on her like... fuck me...

What she sees in that turd...
Sometimes he travels with her.

Milan and Zürich this year.

Brushing up on his culture, the son of a bitch.

There she lives.

The two windows to
the left and the one to the right.

The one on the right's the bedroom.

Son of a bitch is a chain smoker and,
of course, she won't let him smoke in the apartment.

So he opens this small window and smokes.

One clean, long--distance shot and the job's done.
An efficient getaway and not a trace left behind.

Still need to find a good spot...
Maybe somewhere on the roof?

You're not happy with this?

Here? Inside the hotel?

In this room would be favourite.
It's rented by a company from Israel.

What company?

Orion. Film distribution. If the investigation
gets this far, they'll think it was the Mossad.

Good job!

If only the Prosecutor's Office
worked like this on a daily basis!

Smells good.

Where did you learn to cook?

People who eat any old thing in any
old way don't live so long

and have problems with their health.

And wine's also part of a good diet.

What's this?

Roast beef, game style. With beetroot. A classic.

Do you always indulge yourself like this?

And who am I suppose to indulge?
I'm on my own.

No family?

Never happened, somehow.

Military service?

Don't talk with your mouthful.

Just generally try to keep your behaviour
within the norms.

The first rule of secret service...
Never ever stand out from the crowd.

And I do?

Let's assume that you're given an assignment.
To plant a bomb in a restaurant, let's say.

You have lunch, leave the bomb under
the table and go. OK?

OK. Let's say.

Then some witness gives evidence...
there was this guy sitting there,

a beard, grey T-shirt and he left the bomb.
I noticed him because he was such a noisy eater,

chomping and slurping his food. Get it?

- Obvious.

You're good.

The Polish army trained me.

One more session and you'll be ready.

- For what? Can I finally be told?
- Let's go.

When you fired at those people
in Afghanistan, how did you feel?

Why do you ask?

I'm supposed to shoot someone?

Answer the question. How did you feel, seeing
them in the scope and squeezing the trigger?

What was I supposed to feel?

I was at war.

It wasn't the first time I'd fired.

You must have felt something, though.

Excitement.

I don't know.

It's like this.

The blood's circulating...

exhaustion's vanished, sleepiness, fear,
all those unnecessary feelings.

The mind's bright and clear.
I can focus on the shots.

Afterwards?

What afterwards?

When you found out that you'd killed
these innocent people?

It was an accident!

It wasn't my fault.

But what did you feel?

Well? Remorse?

Pangs of conscience?

Or maybe you were furious with them
for getting into your line of fire?

Of course I was furious!

Normally, there'd be a medal or a bonus...

Kill three Taliban?

They might even hand out a promotion.

Well, you can pick up a bonus
and a promotion now, too.

What promotion?

After all, you did get discharged, didn't you?
You'll be going back into the military.

You'll do a year's course at the
counter--intelligence school.

And then, into a special unit.

Who've I got to shoot?

Not important.

A prime pig.

Why?

I said, that's not important. It's an order.
So there must be a reason.

And do you know?

Perhaps he was working for foreign intelligence?

Maybe for the Russians? Maybe with the mafia?

What's important, they'd rather get rid of him
than put him in front of the court.

But I don't know any of the specifics.

I'd rather know.

You would, would you? And why? Because
you'd like to know if he deserves to die!

You're going to judge him yourself, pass
sentence? You want to be the judge?

Maybe you want to be the Lord God?

If you're going to kill, you need to know why.

- Like war. You know what you're fighting for.
- For peace, as always.

But the person who's been killed really doesn't
give a toss.

But I do give a toss!
I'm not a thug, but a soldier!

I don't give a shit anymore!

I'd rather work in a car-wash.

What do you want?

I need you.

And I can do something for you, also.

I want to know why.

If you know, then you'll be wondering whether
it was justified or unjustified.

Don't get your conscience mixed up in it.
It's your job, period!

Don't pretend you don't understand.

What do you think? That I hesitated for a
second before I shot that journalist?

It was you who killed him?

But... why?

Didn't he deserve it?

He deserved it, the son of a bitch,
of course he deserved it.

So what's the problem?

Come.

But why you?

Someone had to.

I wanted to do something that'd please you.

How did you know that I felt like killing him?

But you wouldn't have done it, would you?
It's one thing to shoot someone from a distance,

It's something else to look them in the eye,

listen to them whimper and beg.
You're not ready for that yet.

- And did he whimper and beg?
- He did.

Room 2015. On the twentieth floor.
Be there in ten minutes.

And try not to call attention to yourself.

Put them on.

They'll go over this room with a microscope.

- Why?
- Because this is where we'll be shooting from.

The apartment under the terrace.
Side window.

- That'll be around three hundred metres.
- Can we do it?

I can't see why not?

Run down the stairs.
See how long it takes.

Wait for me in the car.

The lift from the mezzanine goes
down to the garage.

It's a good way out for one person.

Why just for one?

It's all recorded. Why hand them the information
that there were two perps?

But will they be checking?

You said that the operation's being controlled.

I said that we're protected.

The police, military intelligence,
counter--intelligence, bureau of investigation.

You think they all cooperate with each other?

They're creating stumbling blocks for each other.

But if a prime pig like this gets taken out,
all hell's going to break loose.

What'll happen if they catch us?

It's in nobody's interest to catch us.
They'll set up some kind of false trail.

But is someone helping us?

- Not directly.
- So how, then?

You speak English?

Yeah. But only a bit.

Doesn't matter. You're from Israel.

Go to reception and get a ticket
for the garage.

Here's the hotel card.

- What if someone remembers me?
- Don't worry, you're from Israel.

Beer, please.

Hi. You looking for me?

For you.

You had a good time, eh?

You're good.

So? One more time?

Why not?

Exactly. Why not.

What's your name, then?
'Cos you never said.

I never said, 'cos you never asked.

Halina.

Ah. Halina. And I'm Stasiek?

Got a room here?

You need to get one, then.
I only work in the hotel.

For the whole night or by the hour?

I can't do the whole night.
I have to be home.

It's fifty an hour for a room.
Plus a hundred and fifty for me. Two hundred in all.

What? One hour'll do you, surely?
Or do you prefer longer?

Last time we had some fun.

You know...

I'm not flush for cash today.

Too bad.

That time, it was for free.
But it was a one--off.

Pity, 'cos it was a nice one, even.

Does that lift go up to the seventh floor?

No, only to reception and the mezzanine, sir.
You'll need to take a different lift there.

Do you lock the gate to the garage at night?

At eleven, sir.
But you can open it with your card.

...the police have apprehended two youths
responsible for the murder of a taxi driver.

A 14 and 15-year-old who stabbed the
driver to death with a knife and stole

his watch and two hundred zloty, escaped
from a penal facility. They were

arrested when they attempted to sell
the watch to a passer--by in the street...

Have you been out?

Now what gave you that idea?

You're sitting there in your jacket.

I went for a walk.

They escaped through the third floor
window 2 weeks ago... The police...

They escaped through the third floor
window 2 weeks ago... The police...

Young shits. Killing for no reason.

Not that it's surprising. Instead of teaching,
the schools are just spreading moral decay.

Now they want to send six--year--old kids.
Where to?

The schools we have now?

School's crap.

Now these little shits don't learn a thing.

There's no authority figures.
No role models.

Their highest ideal is to make a pile of money.

That's life. It's not going to change.

There's no school can help with that.

Evolution's retracing its steps.

The tide of human development
reached its apogee.

Now it's retreating and it'll keep on
retreating until it reaches back to the apes.

And it hasn't got far to go now.

Well, what?

The business talks are starting. It won't
be long before my name comes up.

You've got very little time.

I know we've got very little time.

What are you looking at?

I'm checking out the repertoire at
the National Opera House.

Go back.

Don't come home as long
as that car's there.

Why?

Do as I say.

And stop asking questions.
They teach you that in the army?

I won't be sorry to leave.

I can imagine.

To what do I owe this honour?

She's coming back.

When? Don't smoke in here.

She's singing this bitch
of Lammermoor next week.

She should arrive any day now.
Tomorrow, the day after. For rehearsals.

So I'll go there the day after tomorrow.

Go tomorrow.

You might just strike lucky.
Like on a hunt.

I feel pity for her.

The passport? The money?

The passport's ready. Not a forgery.
The real thing.

And the money?

- As soon as the job's done.
- I'd rather it was here and now.

And since when has it been customary
to pay up front?

There are two exceptions. Whores and paid killers.

I don't have it here.

- What was that all about?
- Liaison officer.

He doesn't need to see you.

- What's that? Empty?
- Plenty of unknown fingerprints.

The police'll have something
to keep them occupied.

Gauguin sent every newly painted picture
to his marchand in Paris.

The marchand paid him a monthly salary
of three thousand francs.

In those days,
that provided a good life,

particularly on the French Polynesian island
of Hiva Ora, in the Marquesas archipelago.

It was there that he created his greatest works,
famed for their intensive colour and limpid light.

After Gauguin's death, the bishop of Hiva Ora
ordered the island's inhabitants

to bring him every painting
that remained on the island,

the paintings he'd given
to his friends,

his thirteen-year-old mistresses
and their families.

Around forty works were assembled
in front of the church and there,

the bishop set them ablaze

as "the work of the Devil".

Nothing's doing.

Let's head out.

I'm not happy about any of this.

I'd rather pull out.

What's that mean,
that you're not happy about it?

I've got good instincts. When we went into
action in Afghanistan, I felt the same.

Like there's insects running
around in my stomach.

You think you can just pull out of an assignment
which constitutes a military secret?

I was sworn in. I do know what secret means.

And we're supposed to believe that you're
capable of keeping a secret?

We're supposed
to take that kind of a risk, right?

There's no risk. Secret is secret.

You can wind up in the slammer
if you break the oath.

Here is still a savage country.
The methods employed are a bit different.

So I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out that
you've had a car accident,

or hang yourself somewhere in the forest
in order to keep this secret.

And the insects in the belly are normal.
Everyone gets them.

On open terrain,
lions tend to hunt mostly by night,

but in the high grasses
of the savannah,

they might also hunt
during the day.

Hunting is predominantly
the province of the males.

The females rarely participate.

Sit down and eat.

Lions use a variety
of hunting tactics,

depending on
the lay of the land.

I'm not hungry at all.

They kill by bringing their prey
to the ground and asphyxiating it,

either by clamping their jaws
over its muzzle

or by burying their teeth
into its windpipe.

When a male is hunting alone,

it closes in on its prey to a distance of
around thirty meters

and then attacks.

Because most hoofed mammals

can move faster than lions,

the element of surprise is vital.

The dead prey feeds
the entire pride,

which often leads to
clashes among the individuals,

There she is.

That's a good sign.
She's waiting for someone.

It's him.

I'm ready.

Give him some time.

Now.

Shoot.

Kill her, before she starts making noise!

Idiot! Let's get out of here.

- The garage card didn't work.
- Didn't work?

To be able to go out you have to drive in first.
That's how it works.

It's done.

The chief of the Central Bureau of Investigation,
General Siemiradzki, was murdered last night.

The Police has launched an intensive investigation
He was visiting the apartment of friends and

the assassin shot him to the head when he leaned
out of the window to have a cigarette.

Turns out to be true, what they put on the
cigarette packets. Smoking kills.

Don't turn cynical.
It's a big handicap in this line of work.

General Siemiradzki was an outstanding police
officer. In the course of his career...

Now what? Boss?

I'm not your boss anymore.

This evening. I'm to receive the money
and further orders.

- Evacuation in all likelihood.
- Where to?

Somewhere warm. For a while.

I've done that.

I'd rather get a posting
somewhere else.

And you?

After this kind of action, they always
order you to lie low.

Not to stand out.

I doubt we'll be assigned
to the next job together.

That's not done in practice.

For now, I have to hand in the weapon.
And you...

They'll order
you to go back home and wait.

Wait? For long?

According to the latest unofficial reports,
the death of General Siemiradzki may be

the result of mafia scores being settled.

They say there's evidence of the general's ties

They don't know a thing.

with an international gang of arms smugglers

and general having an unofficial bank account
in one of the tax havens — Cayman Islands.

What a bollocks!

Any sensation would do!

I have to deny all speculations about general
Siemiradzki's ties with the underworld.

There's no evidence of such thing.

If that was true, if they'd really had some
kind of documentation,

they'd never have
ordered him to be eliminated.

That's always the final resort.

Better to buy people off.

Or persuade them to see reason.

- You mean blackmail?
- For example.

And this? Typical smoke screen.

Most probably for our security.

general's private life is irrelevant to this
investigation... He left a wife and two kids...

Or... is it the other way round?

- What?
- Nothing.

None's to be trusted.

Even in a service like ours,
where trust should really be fundamental.

But nowadays?
Your own brother'll turn you in to the Tax Office.

Complete barbarity.

I don't even regret the fact that I'm old now.

It's you I feel sorry for, the younger ones.
Because it's not going to get any better.

This is how it'll stay.

Or it'll get even worse.

You will stay here when they come.

Hide yourself in the bedroom.

Anything could happen.

In theory.

You know how it is yourself, right?

Maybe they won't have work for us anymore?

You just are the best, Lulek.
No doubt about it.

I was.

Give me the rifle. It needs to be destroyed.

The money. The passport.

Money.

This much.

How much is there in here?

Twenty thousand dollars. Count it.

- And the rest?
- On your account.

You understand that the money
has to be sent from outside the country.

On what account? I've got no account.

So you open one. Where are you heading? Marbella?

You go to a bank, open an account,
send me the number

and we'll send you
the rest of the money.

- You won't starve to death over a few days.
- Cash.

There's no cash. The sponsor's abroad.
I don't have that kind of money myself.

Mr Prosecutor.

I said to you at one stage, that this
kind of job gets paid up front.

Now you know why.

To avoid complications.

Have you gone mad?

What're you thinking? That you're
dealing with your gangster friends?

Have you received an advance?
Have you received the passport?

So you'll get the rest of the money.

You're not leaving here until I get the money.

I haven't got it. I physically don't have it.
Don't you understand?

Send the driver. Call him.

Kozłowski! Come here.
Don't you aim at me!

Lulek here needs eighty thousand dollars.
Would you happen to have such a sum about you?

No! Lulek! Fuck!

And that's our money gone to hell.

You've been hit.

Never mind, he'd more than likely
never have paid us anyway.

We're going to the hospital.

Might as well just go straight to jail.
Get some towels from the bathroom.

You need a doctor.

I have my own doctor in Pabianice.
Let's get out of here.

- How're you doing?
- Just take watch out for the potholes.

They don't even know how to build
a fucking motorway properly.

I meant to get the suspension fixed.
We always put things off till later.

Whereabouts in Pabianice?

I'll tell you when we get there.

...This morning, a student at Sanders College
in Tucson, Arizona,

opened fire with an assault rifle
in the school-yard,

killing twelve students and two teachers

before barricading himself
into the school building

two teachers killed and several wounded...

Police surrounded the building
and the one-hour siege

that followed came to an end
when a police sniper shot...

Leave it. It's actually interesting.

That interests you?

I'm going away.

I'd rather think that I'm
leaving shit behind me.

Where to?

Spain.

I've got few retired friends out there.

You want to go in that condition?

The doctor'll patch me up and
hide me for a while.

And me?

Go back home.

No one knows a thing about you.

And what's Spain got to offer you?

Warmth.

Sunshine.

Blue sky...

green grass, golden sands.

The girls are mainly brunettes.

Can you speak Spanish?

I'll learn. Seeing as even Kędzior learnt it,

then so can I.

Maybe I should come, as well?

Even just to take you.
You shouldn't drive.

There should be a bridge nearby.
Stop and throw the rifle into the river.

Done.

Well? What's...?

Good morning. Your breakfast.

Andrzej Matula. Investigative journalist with
The Szczecin Courier.

Yes?

Were you aware that General Siemiradzki
came from Szczecin?

I don't know.

Our readers are very interested in
the murder of the general.

Very likely. Everyone's interested.
Every TV station's been here.

- I'd like to go up. See for myself.
- There's nothing to see. The apartment's sealed.

And the opera singer?

I know her.

I even saved her once from a... rather
unpleasant situation.

She's left.

What do you expect?
After something like that?

They shot him from the hotel?
From the roof or from a room?

They won't let you in there, either.

That's tough.

What am I going to write?

You'll just have to fabricate something.
Isn't that normal?

- How long for?
- I'm staying in the hotel.

Ten zloty a day.

You're driving Mr Lulek's car?

Yes.

You know him?

The car was parked here when Lulek was in prison.

So where's Mr. Lulek?

He's gone away. Abroad.

You're constant in your feelings.

...the police pulled the body of man
with a gunshot wound out of the Połtawa River.

The man has been identified as 64 year old Karol Z.,
a gangster known by the pseudonym 'Lulek',

who was sentenced to fifteen years in prison
and was currently on parole.

A search of Karol Z.'s apartment
led to a macabre discovery

when the police found the bodies
of Prosecutor Z.N. and his driver there.

Both men had died from gunshot wounds.

The police are not ruling out
a possible connection between their murders

and the recent assassination of Central Bureau
of Investigation commander, General Siemiradzki.

An intensive investigation is under way.

Unofficial sources have revealed that
Prosecutor N. was leading the Karol Z. case

and may have been
hot on the assassin's trail.

What's wrong?

Was he a relative of yours?

No. Of course not.

Listen...

Let's go away. What do you think?

Where to?

Everywhere's the same.
I went to Krakow last year.

To get a dog.

No-o...

Somewhere further away.
In a warm country.

Spain, instance.

Spain?

I've never been abroad.

You need a passport.

Not for Spain, you don't.

So what's interesting there? Bullfights?
I think I'd freak out.

It's gorgeous there.

Sunshine. Golden sands,
green grass, blue sky...

I've got friends there. Wait. I'll show you.

There was this guy.
He took me to the seashore.

For 3 days. Had some business there.

And?

He paid me two thousand.

Don't worry, I've got money.

Wait here!

What's up?

Lulek.

- He went abroad, I think you said?
- What was I supposed to say?

ANATOMY OF EVIL

Written and directed

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Music

production manager