Dead Certain (1981) - full transcript
Commissioner Servolle (Claude Brasseur), 40, is the undisputed ace of the criminal. He is a man who knows how to impose himself wherever he goes and better yet, to make himself loved: One day, another happiness arrives: friendship. The chosen one is called Faguet (Jean-Louis Trintignant), a famous architect always happy and full of humor. But this event falls perfectly well to boost the morale of Servolle, because for 8 months, he has been trampling on the case of the killer of the beautiful neighborhoods: a maniac who coldly slaughters women. He has already knocked three times and the fourth is terrible because she is Faguet's own wife. Servolle is now at the start of the track. He knows he will have the killer. But suppose that Faguet at the beginning of their friendship introduced him to his mistress as his legitimate wife, suppose that he was once a sniper, and that in the Faguet couple, hatred had reigned for years. A long nightmare will then begin for Servolle. If he kept a bit of lucidity, he would compare it to a desperation of love or, perhaps worse, friendship.
Beautiful.
Campagnolo?
Campagnolo is the best.
This is the best.
Custom?
Well…
Homemade.
Measured the rim down to the micron,
put the spokes on straight.
Not bad, huh?
Well!
I have to say…
The finish…
Faguet. Louis Faguet.
Servolle.
I guess I don't know anything.
You know,
it's a long learning process.
You have to love it.
Oh, but I do.
Really?
-You still smoke!
-Yep.
With me, you're going to have to choose.
Smoking or cycling.
Plus, smoking…
How often do you shave?
When I need to.
It's not awkward, in life?
-Why?
-For women.
Like I give a damn!
I don't care.
Sure, you're a pretty lad like that.
Oh, shut up!
TO MY PARENTS
Oh, damn.
-You all right?
-Yeah.
It's freezing.
Cold.
-Boss.
-Yeah?
What's this?
What is it?
For you. A present.
Shit!
You're nuts.
I think he looks like you.
You're really nuts.
Anniversary.
Whose?
Ours. From the first time we met.
It was before Christmas.
It's been over a year.
So?
I celebrate anniversaries every 13 months.
At our age, it's better that way.
You can be such an idiot sometimes.
Come on.
Let me do that.
What did you do?
Look at this.
-Did you remember my tires?
-I'll bring them tomorrow.
Ever heard of a rag?
-Nope.
-Right.
You should get one.
I'm not paid to clean
Mr. Faguet's dirty bike.
Hey, Louis. Can I use your pump?
Look at this.
Look at this!
I swear.
-Whose nail is this?
-What a clown.
This is cool. What is it?
-Oh, leave that.
-Cool!
Aldo, put it back.
Oh, they buy each other gifts. How cute.
What? Does that bother you?
Shall we? Two laps to warm up,
then 25 more full on.
-20!
-We agreed on 25.
Yeah!
I'm getting over a cold.
-Let's go!
-Here we go!
Okay!
Don't kill yourself.
Yeah, right.
I'll coast behind you.
That's all you ever do.
Come on.
Wait up.
You coming?
I'm taking his place
just to piss off Solange.
-Roland?
-Yeah?
You're a plumber,
so you used a heating hose?
Very funny! Get behind me
and I'll raise the temperature.
Hey!
Let's go!
Put that over there.
Go!
Go!
Let's see it!
Hey!
Go fast!
-Hello, ma'am!
-Hey, Eleonore!
Good morning.
Come on, Louis!
Shift down!
Okay, hang in there.
Come on!
Go!
What?
-Yeah.
-You…?
-Oh, I'm sorry.
-No!
Come on!
-No, go!
-Okay.
I think Corrado is in agreement.
Look, Sylvia,
sometimes I wonder…
Corrado will do what I tell him.
I'll see you tonight, right?
Yeah.
I can't wait to see you.
Really.
Bye.
Shit!
Shit!
According to the hotline,
the roof killer appears to have struck
for the fourth time this morning.
We'll have more details on Europe Midi.
Louis, my spokes broke!
Let's go, boys!
Go!
Le Trayas, Col de l'Évêque,
Pic d'Aurelle, Pic de l'Ours.
Finishing line: Mont Saint-Barthélemy.
Look out!
Some of us are going to be hurting.
-For Easter, that's great.
-Yeah.
It'll be a real crucifixion
for some of us.
I won't name any names…
We'll see.
-Do you have my keys, Greg?
-Yeah.
Here.
Ah!
Gentlemen.
Two hours, 32 minutes, 17 seconds.
-Not bad.
-What's that?
Average: 35.122.
Excuse me!
-Hang on…
-Hold this.
That's two per hour.
Hang on.
Let me warn you.
At Easter, it's crowded.
So?
At the Cheval Blanc,
they hold three rooms for us.
Franck, how many people
could stay at your house?
Three.
-Not four?
-Three.
I'll have my RV. I can take one.
-Take Greg.
-Sure.
-Okay.
-Is there a problem?
Huh? Uh, no…
-See you at Aldo's.
-Yeah.
-Louis, can you drive me?
-Sure.
-Let's go.
-See ya.
-Bye, guys.
-See you.
You coming, guys?
No, I don't think so.
-Mr. Servolle.
-Chief.
A word, Chief.
Is this Mr. Faguet?
Is this the victim's husband?
-What can you tell us?
-Leave us alone.
Don't shut the door.
Come on.
Sir.
This is all routine.
What?
Marc Ensor, my second-in-command.
My friend, Faguet.
My deepest sympathies…
Thank you.
The coroner was very clear.
The shot was nearly vertical.
What a shot.
We know.
But this confirms it.
In your view,
would this angle be very difficult?
Yes.
Between this and this,
there's a world of difference.
But I could be wrong.
No, I think you're right.
We'll need to come back.
Do we have photos?
I'll get them.
This is the fourth time.
But this time, for you, I'll get him.
Louis.
-You hear me?
-Sir.
If your friend is able to…
We'll check that at the autopsy.
"Sylvia Faguet
"taught comparative literature
at Creteil University.
"Married for eight years
to a famous real-estate developer,
"the killer's fourth victim
had just turned 33."
Damn it.
The bastard.
He really fooled us.
What? It wasn't your business.
No!
What about this?
Here!
This was taken at my place, right?
In my house, in Rueil!
"His wife"!
I told him to come over for lunch
with his wife.
He says to me, "Roland, this is my wife."
"My wife, Lalie."
Sure.
But to my wife, he says "my wife"!
To my wife, "my wife," I mean, his wife!
Someone who lies to my wife, sorry,
but that's my business.
Well, maybe it's better.
That it's not Lalie.
Hello, Lalie.
Where is he?
Sit down.
And Servolle?
FAGUET REAL ESTATE
Have a seat.
Solange, wait for me in the car.
About the…
I don't know what to say.
I'm very sorry.
I hope so.
It seemed…
Silly.
Now I see why you never
invited us to Paris.
I thought you were being a snob.
No, I was happy there.
Sylvia hated it there.
It can also be read
as a real lack of confidence.
Okay.
Especially toward me.
Toward you and the others. Everyone.
Especially toward me, if I may say so.
Perhaps.
Would it kill you to apologize?
I'm sorry.
Did you love your wife?
I loved her deeply.
At least until three years ago.
And then, suddenly, no.
Not suddenly.
What about Lalie? Was she causing trouble?
Not at all.
Was your wife seeing someone?
Probably.
I think so, anyway.
You think, or you're sure?
Are you investigating me?
I'll tell you when I'm investigating.
Sorry.
For now, it's just you and me.
But just some asshole like me
trying to figure out whether his friend…
his so-called friend -- you --
is very unhappy, a little unhappy, or…
Or not at all?
Yeah.
I'd say…
between a little and a lot.
But enough, believe me.
I imagine you're not expecting
a show of emotion.
No, no.
I made you a promise.
I'll keep it.
So, my dear Servolle,
what do you conclude?
Did you get out of bed the wrong side
this morning, Dauzat?
No.
Sundays, I get up early.
I figured I'd find you up here,
and it'd be an excuse to go for a stroll.
What's your conclusion?
I conclude nothing, Your Honor.
Good morning.
It's a real pain in the ass,
these psychos bumping ladies off.
Four times, right?
It's going to sound like a lot.
You and I have seen better days.
May I?
Go ahead.
Still no motive?
So…
I wonder.
Go on.
This time,
the victim is the wife
of a close friend of mine.
Perhaps he wanted to, I don't know…
to taunt me.
Thumbing his nose at you.
Interesting.
Did you know Mrs. Faguet well?
Not at all.
Sports friendships are an odd thing.
Sometimes, you know everyone:
the wife, the kids,
but others…
You don't know anyone.
I understand.
But the same can be true in all kinds
of friendships.
And this man, the Nescafé lover,
how long have you known him?
Over a year.
Thirteen months.
Okay.
Routine, Servolle.
Don't skip the routine.
I told you to get out of here!
-We're almost done, sir.
-Get the hell out!
Christ, that smell!
Oh, hi. What did I want to tell you…
Oh, right. Routine, Ensor.
Don't skip the routine.
-That is rarely an issue for me, sir.
-Right.
It's a little damaged, isn't it?
A bit, but it's not a problem.
Okay.
I know what you're thinking,
and you'd be right.
Thank you to everyone
who came to the funeral.
I know the rest of you couldn't make it.
I have two things to say.
First, when I introduced you to Lalie,
I didn't know you well yet.
If I had known you like I do now,
I wouldn't have lied to you.
From the moment I said "my wife,"
I was trapped.
Secondly, things were over
with my wife.
We stayed together for appearances,
and for the money a little,
but it was over.
Lalie is my life now.
It was almost like
I didn't feel like it was a lie,
about Lalie.
Yeah.
Please forgive me.
I'm sorry.
Let's go!
Mr. Faguet has a mistress,
one Lalie Pierce.
He was living with her
as much as with his wife.
Stop saying "Mr." Just say "Faguet."
-Yes, sir.
-Sit down.
They were a very divided couple.
They had terrible rows.
And you're sure this is why?
No, but it seems logical.
I don't give a damn about logic!
Wait until you're sure, at least.
What else?
The military record of Mr…
Of Faguet.
Lieutenant in the mountain infantry,
very good skier.
He even represented France
in an inter-army competition,
a biathlon: skiing and shooting.
He took third place.
An excellent shot, too.
What the hell do I care?
Routine investigation, sir.
You said yourself it was a great shot.
Did I say it was Faguet?
-No, the killer.
-Right!
Where was Faguet when his wife was killed?
In Longchamp, I think.
That's good! With who?
-With you.
-Well then, Ensor!
There are limits to routine.
There's routine, and then there's idiocy!
The decision is always yours, sir.
Thank you, Servolle.
What bothers me
are these conjugal disputes,
these domestic scenes.
I wonder
if we should get a search warrant.
I'd rather not.
Say, you're a bike specialist…
Cycling, Your Honor.
Cycling.
Is it possible that a cyclist
could leave the track…
Is "track" the word?
Yes, Your Honor.
Could leave the track for a long time
without his fellow cyclists noticing?
Probably not, no.
-Are you sure?
-Yes.
Got a blowout?
Shit!
She was preventing him from living.
She was emasculating him.
I'd say it started three years ago.
The conflict between
university and money,
pleasures of the mind
versus luxury of influence.
But so intense!
Do you remember anything in particular?
You're a cop, and I'm a therapist.
I'm not an informer.
She emasculated him because
he couldn't manage to impress her.
His only masculine power,
his virility, was money.
He loved her.
The more she emasculated him,
the more he loved her.
For him, it was a question of survival.
There's no way
he couldn't have wished her dead.
Do you think he really could have?
No, sir, not at all.
Don't put words in my mouth.
Okay. Thank you.
That'll be 300 francs.
For me, Okay.
If you want me to have
killed Sylvia, Okay.
Tell me how I killed her.
And I'll sign.
Leave me alone.
I'm not the one who ordered this search.
But you're here.
-Yes.
-You didn't want it, but you're here.
Yes.
One thing.
If I had wanted to kill my wife,
do you think I'd have introduced you
to my mistress?
To you?
You, of all people!
If you'd rather go back with your friends,
that's fine.
Assuming I'm not already
under surveillance.
Oh, cut it out.
The Porsche in your driveway:
was that your wife's car?
Yeah.
She got a new one every six months
and almost never drove it.
You said that…
you were staying together
in part for money, right?
And?
Well…
Explain…
No.
I'm a little slow, but I understand.
I won't say anything
without my lawyer present.
I'm hiring Jean-Pierre.
Our friend Jean-Pierre, the lawyer.
My friend Jean-Pierre.
If you don't mind.
Not at all.
If you were looking for the rifle,
you must be disappointed.
Sorry, I don't have one.
I never have.
I don't hunt. I've never hunted,
and I shoot--
Like a pro, I know.
You know already?
Congrats.
You're good.
That was 20 years ago.
I'm sure I've lost my touch.
Unless you can prove I started up again.
You can try.
Right?
Sir,
I…
I must ask to be recused
from an investigation
regarding the murders of Mrs.
Jeanbrun, Pilitch, De Valescure,
and Faguet
because of my
relationship,
if not… friendship…
with the husband
of the fourth victim.
No. Because of my personal relationship
with…
the husband of one of the victims.
A relationship that…
could put me in an…
that could potentially put me
in a difficult position,
and could cloud my judgment
with respect to important decisions.
Uh… Shit!
A relationship that could put me
in a situation that would be…
detrimental to the investigation,
detrimental to the interests
of the investigation.
Okay.
Full stop.
New paragraph…
Yours sincerely,
Chief, etc. Full stop.
Blah blah blah.
You made the right choice.
This isn't cowardice.
This isn't me saying,
"He's my friend,
do what you want with him,
"I'm washing my hands."
Servolle…
Something's wrong?
You're not okay?
Not really, sir.
That's why I want to say…
to declare that…
Since you're the presiding judge,
to…
to formally declare
that at the moment of the crime,
I was with Faguet.
I know that.
I won't deviate from that statement.
If he needs an alibi,
I'll be there.
My dear Servolle…
No one suspects your friend
of having directly killed his wife.
But he could have…
I don't know,
he could have hired a killer,
for example.
No.
No, no.
Even that…
Even having had her killed,
it doesn't add up.
I know Faguet well.
He's kind.
He's…
He's free of guile, he's…
He doesn't have the right profile.
Well…
Sounds like love.
You love him.
Oh…
A little. He's a friend.
I'm sure you're going to display
significant talent on this case.
Thanks for your vote of confidence,
Your Honor.
You went to the right school.
The best.
That, Servolle…
is a gift.
There's three of us!
Not four, three!
-You know what?
-No.
-I've been starting to wonder…
-Brideau, Jacquier, Servolle!
That's it!
My question was: are we finally
going to be able to sleep in this house?
It was Brideau or Jacquier! So why?
He's been on the case from the start!
I've been on this blasted case!
He doesn't know a damn thing!
He's got no instincts!
All in his head, nothing in his gut!
Plus, he hates me.
As soon as he finds
something to bother me with…
What could bother you?
What do I know?
He says, trust me.
That's the cherry on top!
Calm down.
You'll give yourself a headache.
Don't worry about my head!
I'm fine.
I feel like crap. I want ten days off.
Can't you see I'm burned out?
I've seen worse.
Get some fresh air.
-What do we got?
-18.55.
We'll start again on Saturday,
in real conditions.
A Saturday, with fewer cars,
it shouldn't be over 18.
How fast is it?
You'll have to as Gloglo.
-Who?
-Le Glohennec.
He's an old pro.
He took third in the National Road Race.
Bring him.
As your lawyer, I can conclude
that this comes out to nothing.
-I want to believe you.
-Jean-Pierre?
You're a darling.
I know there's another…
-I know he recused himself.
-Yeah.
No, no.
He could have stayed on the case.
We don't care about Mr. Servolle's
misgivings here.
Hey, he's a friend.
-Nice to meet you, Le Glohennec.
-Flattered, sir.
So, these guys who ride at Longchamp,
how fast do they do it?
6.36 or 6.40.
-Mr. Servolle, too?
-No.
He's six minutes, 6.10 max.
And his friends?
They're the same.
With Mr. Servolle,
you like to keep up the pace.
Benedetti, to the board.
18 divided by 6.
That's three laps.
Yes.
That's good.
-Yes?
-Ensor.
One second, sir.
Yes?
In your calculations,
you need to add five minutes,
because your suspect always
takes his wheels off
and doesn't know how to put them back on!
You think he'd be embarrassed by his bike?
By his bicycle, Ensor!
Yes, I'm sure!
Another theory, sir:
he could have been pretending
to take his wheels off to…
To condition us?
Oh, you're a subtle one, Ensor!
We'd just need to measure.
A bike would go in a station wagon
like that with wheels on.
Well, see, there's progress!
If you've already figured that out,
there's reason to hope!
Keep it up, kid!
So you tried to bring Mr. Faguet back?
Yeah. How do you know?
We just know.
Can you tell us which lap?
At the sixth and the end of the seventh.
All of a sudden, he couldn't keep up.
He told me to keep going.
He told you.
Yes. And about the keys, too…
What keys?
What I said earlier, about the car keys.
No, you tell us when we ask you.
So Mr. Faguet was tuckered out?
That's what I said.
Hey…
Do you know who I am?
Yeah, Le Glohennec.
Right.
So watch your step.
Let me tell you.
Mr. Faguet wasn't worn out.
He paid you to say that!
We'll see you again.
But about the keys?
Keep your mouth shut about that.
I can't see you, sir.
I've already said all there is to say
about the Faguets.
I was with your colleague an hour.
I can't spend my whole life
with the police.
Goodbye.
You, sir, are the timekeeper,
the archivist,
the historian of the cycling group.
Did you bring me your statement?
-That Saturday, you did 25 laps?
-Yes.
When did you start?
9.45 a.m.
9.45 exactly?
9.44 and 56 seconds.
And when did you stop?
12.17 and 13 seconds.
Very precise.
You're a professor?
No, I'm a graduate teaching assistant.
Do you know Mrs. Faguet well?
Not at all.
I figured that you all…
No.
You should tell them.
-They won't listen!
-Sure they will.
-Ask for Ensor.
-I'm not asking for anyone!
I'm telling you, officially.
I had Faguet's car keys in my pocket.
-Don't you remember?
-Sure I do.
Isn't that proof?
Proof of what?
That it wasn't him.
Wasn't him what?
Nobody's accusing him.
Really?
I thought…
Sorry to bother you.
Maybe I shouldn't have come.
No, it's important.
But…
Cool.
At the end of the fifth lap,
9.45 to 10.15.
Faguet is with the pack.
Sixth and seventh lap, 10.15 to 10.27:
Faguet is with the Black painter.
Eighth to eleventh laps, 10.27 to 10.51:
Faguet is alone.
For 24 minutes.
Twelfth and thirteenth laps,
10.51 to 11.03:
Faguet is in another pack.
He remembers and told us so.
Fourteenth lap, 11.03 to 11.09:
Faguet is alone.
For six minutes.
Fifteenth lap, 11.09 to 11.15:
Faguet joins Jean-Pierre Louveau,
then falls behind.
Sixteenth to nineteenth laps,
11.15 to 11.39:
Faguet is alone.
For 24 minutes.
Twentieth lap, 11.39 to 11.45:
Faguet is seen by Delplanque,
who had broken some spokes.
Twenty-first lap, 11.45 to 11.51:
Faguet is alone.
For six minutes.
Twenty-first to twenty-fifth laps,
11.51 to 12.12:
Faguet is with the young Italian guy,
the Pezzi kid.
There you go.
What sticks out to you?
That's great work.
The colors…
When was the murder?
11.29.
How long would it have taken him
to get there?
18 minutes.
He has 24 minutes. That leaves him six.
11.15 to 11.39,
and the crime right in the middle.
It's obvious!
Sure, especially like this.
The Italian you mentioned, this…
Lamberti.
"Lamperti," with a P.
Corrado Lamperti.
The philosopher and political theorist.
You've never heard of him?
-No.
-That's shameful.
Why?
Was he the lover?
The lover?
You don't feel uncomfortable
putting it like that?
No.
He was, let's say…
a close friend.
He was a presence.
Only when you're a little Faguet.
Even wealthy.
Or particularly in that case.
Which doesn't help matters.
When you're just a little Faguet,
and Lamperti is brilliant,
that hurts.
Did it bother him much?
It was killing him.
Sylvia would invent things…
cruel things.
And Corrado, forget about it.
They were geniuses.
Truly.
When it came to figuring out
what could destroy
a man's pride.
And he handled it?
No. He couldn't take it.
So she was crazy.
Most definitely.
You don't understand.
Shall we go in?
It was always your problem.
For you to take them off.
You think we'll put them back on?
Well…
This doesn't seem to fit.
You're always the one
who puts them back on for me.
So.
You mean, you only took them off
so I'd put them back on?
Maybe.
How are you doing?
Me?
Your head.
All better.
How do you know about that?
Solange.
She calls me.
You don't have a key with six sections?
No.
Oh.
For that,
my wife is great.
Yeah.
You're lucky.
Go on.
Talk.
You.
I know.
It was hell.
I wouldn't say that.
What would you say?
I'd say…
it was not quite so bad.
One degree less than hell.
You can feel the difference, I swear.
The wop.
Oh…
If it had only been Corrado.
Why didn't you talk about it?
To who?
Well…
What about me?
No, no.
Why not?
Take a guess.
So I wouldn't lose you.
Are you kidding?
I didn't want you to see me humiliated.
Humiliated,
cowardly,
ugly.
You couldn't handle it?
You couldn't stand it anymore.
Yes, I killed her.
Ten times, twenty times.
In my thoughts, I killed her.
You know they came out with new brakes?
All titanium.
Hm.
But I didn't kill her.
-How are you, Chief?
-Just dandy.
Hey, Gloglo. Sit down.
How's the investigation going?
All right.
I think I heard
that Faguet didn't have his car keys
on him at the time.
Does that seem so important?
I don't know. I won't do your job for you.
No, I have a record of that.
Oh? Then I didn't say a word.
No problem.
Well, Happy Easter.
Excuse me.
Hey.
Greg, take his wheel!
Follow him!
Push!
Close in!
Good.
Thanks, guys.
No problem.
It's best that you know that
we don't think you're so great.
You know,
the way we see it…
if you had stayed on the case,
it would have been better for our friend.
I mean…
if you'd had the courage…
Yeah.
There, I've said it.
I don't do this job to do favors.
You can say that again.
And you're proving it.
A gin martini, please.
In the roof killer case,
we have just been informed
of the arrest of one Louis Faguet,
the husband of the fourth victim.
Now to the weather.
A line of clouds coming in
over the west of the country this morning.
This zone of rain will move
to the center of France later today.
In the afternoon,
it will come to the north,
the Paris Basin and the Massif Central,
the Pyrenees regions…
Ah, Servolle.
-How are you?
-Not good.
Not good?
Why?
-Faguet was arrested.
-On solid evidence.
No, I'm sorry, with just a smidge
of evidence.
Accusing and arresting are not the same!
Ensor gave me good evidence.
Not completely convincing,
but solid and well presented.
He's a diligent student.
I told you, I was with Faguet!
Alas, my friend, we're past that.
Being with someone
is somewhat of a philosophical notion.
Who can ever be sure
of being with someone?
Can I see you, sir?
-Of course. Tuesday.
-No sooner?
No, please, let me have my Easter break.
And you know,
there's no rush.
I'm leaving.
-I think it's for the best.
-Say…
Did you say what I told you?
Yes, I told them.
-You're leaving?
-Yes.
I have my car.
See you.
What's wrong with you?
You'll wake her up.
Who?
Lalie.
Are you crazy?
-The poor thing, she--
-I don't give a shit!
I'm going home.
Don't be silly. Go back to sleep.
So they're saying
he came back to kill his wife?
That's what they say.
But how?
With his car! Go to bed.
But you'll get him out?
I'll try.
You swear?
Yes, yes, Solange!
Come on.
Come on.
Ensor!
Good student.
Good cop.
If you'd allow me a word of advice.
Try to prove that…
Faguet killed the three other women, too.
I don't follow, sir.
Well…
The three other women first,
to make people think
there's a serial killer on the loose,
and then his wife after.
-I think I remember that--
-Excuse me.
…that the first three were killed
with the same gun,
and Mrs. Faguet with another.
So? Faguet's rich.
He can buy as many guns as he likes.
If you haven't thought of that,
you're not off to a good start.
We did 25 laps that day.
And I'd asked to do only 20.
He must remember.
I'm the one who asked to do fewer.
You want me to talk to him?
Yes.
And tell him to come.
To come.
Sounds like he's the one you miss.
No, I miss you.
I miss you.
What about the rifle?
How would I have transported it?
You can't hide that.
Go ahead.
Excuse me! Sir!
Yeah!
Good!
Is Ensor there?
Great! What bad luck!
Don't marry your sister on a Saturday!
Keep him warm for me.
I'm on my way.
We've got him.
Hey.
We're doing the impossible
to reach Mr. Ensor.
Oh, the possible will suffice.
-What's his name?
-Kreps.
Kreps?
Kreps.
So, your name is Kreps?
Yes, sir.
And you live…?
-In Nancy.
-Okay. And you work?
-In a factory.
-Okay.
What kind of factory?
-Weapons.
-Ah.
-Apparently you make sights.
-Yes, sir.
That's good.
So, you make sights.
No.
Come sit.
Come.
Come.
Have a seat here.
There.
And you wanted to try one out.
No, sir.
Ah…
Yes, sir.
I didn't do anything.
I was going to, but I didn't.
So on Saturdays you come down to Paris?
No, just today.
And how did you come?
By car.
What kind of car?
A Renault 4.
Okay. Let's recap.
You like the gun sights,
you wanted to try one out.
You come down to Paris,
preferably a Saturday.
-No.
-Hang on.
I didn't say "every Saturday."
I said "preferably a Saturday."
Don't worry.
We're going to get along just fine.
Fill her up, fast.
What's my name?
Servolle.
See, you know.
You told me, that's how I know.
No, you already knew!
You'd read my name in the papers.
You knew Servolle would catch you,
and you killed Mrs. Faguet
just to piss me off!
You're a real pervert, Kreps!
No, sir. I'm stupid.
Everyone says so.
Go on, eat.
Here.
Drink.
Smoke…
There's one guy who can save your neck.
Just one.
Because, you know,
four women,
don't count on a miracle.
Kreps.
Right now,
you're dead.
Eh?
I like guns, too, you know.
And you like the sights.
You're fascinated by them,
they're your whole life!
But if you confess right away,
if you confess to me,
then I can lean on that side.
I'll focus on the crazy side.
I'll frame things a certain way.
If you know how many guys saved their skin
just by confessing to someone
who truly understood them!
I'm begging you, Kreps!
You shouldn't have, Ensor…
Well, you really dress up nicely.
You should have stayed at the wedding.
The Cantal is so nice in the spring.
May I remind you
that I'm in charge of this case?
Yep, unfortunately.
But okay. I won't talk.
I won't say a word.
-Your name?
-Kreps.
-Where do you like?
-In Nancy. We've been over this.
Kreps, this is Mr. Ensor.
He's my boss, and he's an ace.
Fun time is over, pal.
For him, you killed every one.
-No.
-Oh, yes!
Every murder was a Saturday.
No, the first one was a Wednesday.
-Wednesday, March 5th.
-He's right.
So you remember the date?
-Of course.
-If I may…
No! Why "of course"?
You know. I'm crazy about sights.
Mr. Ensor and I aren't bastards.
Say the first wasn't you.
-No! Why?
-He works Wednesdays.
We'll check that.
He knows! He's not an idiot.
Okay.
But the second,
third, and fourth, that was you.
-Saturday: Kreps.
-No.
No.
No Saturday, August 9th.
I was on vacation.
Where?
In La Baule.
Sure, but with a Renault 4,
you can make some trips.
I didn't go anywhere.
-You'll check on that.
-No.
Excuse me.
-Did you want to say something?
-No.
OK.
I'll take the second victim out.
That leaves
November 6, Mrs. De Valsecure,
and February 20, Mrs. Faguet.
Where were you?
I was at home.
Careful, Kreps.
We want to be nice,
but come on, help us out!
There's two. Take one!
Which one do you want?
The fourth, Kreps.
Take Mrs. Faguet.
Come here.
Come here.
There.
See?
It's over now.
You'll get your Faguet back.
Right?
It's not that they're completely
indispensable to us,
but it's so nice when they're around.
My dear Mr. Kreps,
since you've agreed to admit to the second
and the third,
please oblige me to charge you
as well for the first,
since, as the factory has informed me,
you were on sick leave
that Wednesday for the flu.
And since in August,
the first crime was carried out
with the same gun as the second
and the third,
the same gun you had with you
the other day.
I suggest that you call upon
your intelligence
to make use of your common sense,
or vice-versa.
But let's be done with this.
That was wise.
Right?
Ah!
We're making progress.
There's just one left.
On February 20th, you were at a game.
Nancy…
Nancy-Bordeaux. Girondins de Bordeaux.
And who won?
Girondins de Bordeaux, 3-1.
And you met three of your friends
outside the stadium.
-Yes.
-Huh? Yes?
At 2:30 p.m., right?
Yes.
They've confirmed this.
You were on time.
Quite conclusive.
If my client had killed someone at 11.30,
he couldn't have made it to that match
in three hours.
In in a Renault 4,
sir.
Neuilly,
West Paris.
All of Paris to cross.
See? I'm with you.
Well, dear Kreps, finally some good news.
You didn't kill Mrs. Faguet.
Three hours and 23 minutes.
As fast as possible.
Wasn't worth it.
It's always worth a try.
You weren't taught that?
Alas, he won't.
He'll agree to have exterminated
the 16th arrondissement,
plus part of Neuilly,
but oddly enough,
he won't admit to Mrs. Faguet.
Believe me, it pains me as it does you.
And he's right.
He didn't kill her.
That remains to be proven.
It's proven. He couldn't have.
So you're no longer opposed to parole?
Sure I am.
On the contrary.
I'm increasingly opposed.
In Mr. Faguet's place…
Which is?
Upset over a troublesome woman…
I'm not exaggerating.
Yes.
I would surely have been tempted
to kill my unbearable wife
and make her look like
the serial killer's victim.
Put her on his ledger.
And for Kreps, one more, one less…
-Mr. Dauzaut, I won't allow it.
-It's all right.
Are you married, Your Honor?
No.
Well, that's why.
You think like a bachelor.
When you're married, then you've loved.
You don't kill a woman
you've loved just like that.
I love you.
-I love you.
-All right. He gets the idea.
How are you, Louis?
I'm trying.
Thanks for coming.
Of course.
About the laps, the number of laps,
did Lalie tell you?
Yes.
Do you remember I asked for fewer?
Logically -- according to your logic --
I mean…
to have the time to…
When you said 25, I should have said 30.
-30?
-Yeah.
We wouldn't have believe you.
You didn't have it in you.
There's something else.
I thought about the keys last night.
The keys to the Volvo:
I didn't have them while we were riding.
-No joke?
-Greg had them.
You can ask him.
I don't know.
When I buy a car,
they always give me two sets of keys.
Ah.
Well, sure, if you put it like that.
We have to look at it that way.
But you'll make it out.
You think so?
Yes.
On the distance.
I'll put it at 53. No, 52.
Yeah…
You think that'll change something?
-It's easier.
-Hey.
-Hey.
-Hey.
-Hey.
-Hey.
I didn't like your tone on the phone.
I come when I can, but I come.
Go ahead.
It's simple.
Let him talk.
No need for a lawyer, right?
So?
Faguet was gone between the 16th
and the 19th lap?
-I don't know.
-That's what you said.
I said nothing.
I don't know anything.
Well?
I saw him during the 17th lap.
That's good. For him, that's very good.
Where were you?
Stopped.
In February, those who weren't feeling
up to it could stop
for one lap and come back on the next.
I wasn't the only one.
Okay.
I didn't notice that day.
How do you know it was the 17th?
I was counting.
I was getting over a cold,
so I wasn't feeling great.
The Saturday before,
I quit at the 11th lap.
So I was counting
to see how I did that time.
I made it to the 16th.
You just said 17.
-Was it 16 or 17?
-Cool it, Servolle.
I stopped at the end of the 16th
and saw him go by during the 17th.
And he didn't see you.
I don't know. Why?
If he had seen you, he would have told me.
So I'm making it up?
He's forgotten, so I'm lying?
No, Jean.
Not at all.
If you're sure, then you should testify.
Only if you're sure.
He wanted to tell you sooner.
That's nice, but… go see Ensor.
Right, go talk to someone else,
that's way easier.
Why didn't you remember sooner?
I didn't know it happened
between the 16th and 19th laps.
Jean-Pierre told me.
Jean-Pierre or Franck?
Both, but Jean-Pierre first.
Ah, okay.
If you're completely sure, then testify.
And then, no more problems.
I have to go. See ya.
-Bye.
-Bye.
See you.
You were an auditor with the
Council of State.
Now you're in the budget office.
That's right.
Mr. Jousselin, one can assume
that you have a fairly meticulous mind.
I hope so.
So during the 17th lap, around…
Not "around."
Between 11.21 and 11.27.
But closer to 11.27.
Let's get this down on paper.
Since you'll sign?
Of course.
I celebrate anniversaries every 13 months.
At our age, it's better.
Thirteen months!
Thirteen months, eh?
Go for a stroll, have sex!
Shit!
Take this!
Thirteen months! Shit cop!
Sir, if you have a minute…
What's it about?
As a witness?
Are you going to have me testify
about the case?
Let's go to your office.
No, Ensor! Your place.
Formalities!
You acquired this apartment…
Eight months ago.
And did you work with Faguet Real Estate?
Yes.
What was the price?
600,000 francs.
Well…
300,000 francs I inherited.
From my father. You can check.
110,000 francs of personal savings,
and I borrowed the rest.
From a bank?
Good question, Ensor. Good.
Very good question!
Well…
I borrow from Faguet Real Estate.
But…
You're not going to ask
what the interest rate was?
What was the rate?
Eight percent.
You should be shouting!
"Eight percent?! That's low!"
Yes.
Usually it's twice that.
Yes, it was a gift.
So?
Are you charging me?
Misconduct? Complicity?
If the question is:
Was Faguet trying to make a friend
of Captain Servolle?
The answer is yes!
If the question is, did it work?
The answer is yes!
If the question is,
does Servolle now believe
that Faguet killed his wife?
Then the answer is yes, yes, and yes!
If the question is,
can the brilliant young Captain Ensor
still catch him? The answer is no!
Why?
I'm sure Jousselin lied.
The guy's a liar.
Not "the guy"!
This gentleman.
Careful.
This high-up administrator,
I know he doesn't lie.
He doesn't lie, but that's even worse.
He made a mistake.
In good faith.
And we can't do anything about that!
That's rock solid.
The perfect crime.
It'll be dismissed.
I know it.
You know it.
Judge Dauzat knows it.
All three of us know it.
Faguet
killed his wife here.
Right here.
But rest assured,
Faguet will walk away from this
as white as snow.
Because he's got solid-gold friends.
The perfect crime.
Friendship, Ensor.
Apparently, you're not familiar with it.
You're right.
For a cop,
friendship is an impossible luxury.
The perfectly perfect crime.
End scene.
I'll let you erase this.
I know this hurts you,
but less than it does me, believe me.
Everything better?
Yeah.
So, Loulou,
how you doing?
I've got so much energy.
We'll help you with that.
You don't have to train, you know.
-Hey, Faguet!
-Hey!
Hey.
-Let's go, Faguet!
-Yeah!
-Come on!
-Hey, Louis.
The pâté and the champagne.
Solange?
Where should I put this?
-At the end of the table.
-Okay.
-Don't put it all together.
-And the plates?
No, do the napkins.
Shit!
You all right?
Yeah.
I'm just fine.
Good.
Everybody's happy.
Everyone else seems glad to see me,
but not you.
You want some congratulations?
I was hoping.
Was that a new tube?
A Clement?
Yeah.
You don't have to pretend.
Pretend…?
To be interested in cycling.
But I am.
You gave me the virus.
Ah!
At least you'll have gotten that.
And?
What else? Say it.
The jackpot.
You got rid of your wife.
If that's what you think, prove it.
I think I will.
Maybe not tomorrow, but…
If it's a matter of time, I can wait.
I can wait, too. I'm in no rush.
I'm very patient.
Plus,
I've got the right end.
Oh? What?
The tracks.
What tracks?
The tracks of your car in the snow.
Well…
The tracks in front.
There were tracks?
Yes.
-You saw them?
-Yes.
Ah.
Well, that's something.
If I drove away,
then I must have killed her.
Can you prove it?
That there were tracks? No.
Too bad.
You should have taken a photo.
Oh, please.
I'll find another way. Trust me.
I do trust you.
And you think I'm pretending
to be your friend, too?
Yes.
Let's go!
-Come on!
-Let's go!
Hey, old man!
We said we'd take it easy!
Yep!
Brake!
Take my wheel!
Let's not miss the sprint.
Go!
-Push!
-Come on, Louis!
Go!
Here we go!
Don't let him get away!
Push, Louis!
Asshole!
Louis!
Louis!
Hold him.
Shit!
No, no, no.
Are you crazy?
You're crazy.
-You're all busted up.
-I'll take you to the pharmacy.
It's fine.
-Are you sure?
-Yeah.
You Okay?
Yeah.
Are you all right?
I'm fine.
Are you sure?
I'm fine.
It's nothing.
It's nothing.
Subtitle translation by: Adam Lozier
Campagnolo?
Campagnolo is the best.
This is the best.
Custom?
Well…
Homemade.
Measured the rim down to the micron,
put the spokes on straight.
Not bad, huh?
Well!
I have to say…
The finish…
Faguet. Louis Faguet.
Servolle.
I guess I don't know anything.
You know,
it's a long learning process.
You have to love it.
Oh, but I do.
Really?
-You still smoke!
-Yep.
With me, you're going to have to choose.
Smoking or cycling.
Plus, smoking…
How often do you shave?
When I need to.
It's not awkward, in life?
-Why?
-For women.
Like I give a damn!
I don't care.
Sure, you're a pretty lad like that.
Oh, shut up!
TO MY PARENTS
Oh, damn.
-You all right?
-Yeah.
It's freezing.
Cold.
-Boss.
-Yeah?
What's this?
What is it?
For you. A present.
Shit!
You're nuts.
I think he looks like you.
You're really nuts.
Anniversary.
Whose?
Ours. From the first time we met.
It was before Christmas.
It's been over a year.
So?
I celebrate anniversaries every 13 months.
At our age, it's better that way.
You can be such an idiot sometimes.
Come on.
Let me do that.
What did you do?
Look at this.
-Did you remember my tires?
-I'll bring them tomorrow.
Ever heard of a rag?
-Nope.
-Right.
You should get one.
I'm not paid to clean
Mr. Faguet's dirty bike.
Hey, Louis. Can I use your pump?
Look at this.
Look at this!
I swear.
-Whose nail is this?
-What a clown.
This is cool. What is it?
-Oh, leave that.
-Cool!
Aldo, put it back.
Oh, they buy each other gifts. How cute.
What? Does that bother you?
Shall we? Two laps to warm up,
then 25 more full on.
-20!
-We agreed on 25.
Yeah!
I'm getting over a cold.
-Let's go!
-Here we go!
Okay!
Don't kill yourself.
Yeah, right.
I'll coast behind you.
That's all you ever do.
Come on.
Wait up.
You coming?
I'm taking his place
just to piss off Solange.
-Roland?
-Yeah?
You're a plumber,
so you used a heating hose?
Very funny! Get behind me
and I'll raise the temperature.
Hey!
Let's go!
Put that over there.
Go!
Go!
Let's see it!
Hey!
Go fast!
-Hello, ma'am!
-Hey, Eleonore!
Good morning.
Come on, Louis!
Shift down!
Okay, hang in there.
Come on!
Go!
What?
-Yeah.
-You…?
-Oh, I'm sorry.
-No!
Come on!
-No, go!
-Okay.
I think Corrado is in agreement.
Look, Sylvia,
sometimes I wonder…
Corrado will do what I tell him.
I'll see you tonight, right?
Yeah.
I can't wait to see you.
Really.
Bye.
Shit!
Shit!
According to the hotline,
the roof killer appears to have struck
for the fourth time this morning.
We'll have more details on Europe Midi.
Louis, my spokes broke!
Let's go, boys!
Go!
Le Trayas, Col de l'Évêque,
Pic d'Aurelle, Pic de l'Ours.
Finishing line: Mont Saint-Barthélemy.
Look out!
Some of us are going to be hurting.
-For Easter, that's great.
-Yeah.
It'll be a real crucifixion
for some of us.
I won't name any names…
We'll see.
-Do you have my keys, Greg?
-Yeah.
Here.
Ah!
Gentlemen.
Two hours, 32 minutes, 17 seconds.
-Not bad.
-What's that?
Average: 35.122.
Excuse me!
-Hang on…
-Hold this.
That's two per hour.
Hang on.
Let me warn you.
At Easter, it's crowded.
So?
At the Cheval Blanc,
they hold three rooms for us.
Franck, how many people
could stay at your house?
Three.
-Not four?
-Three.
I'll have my RV. I can take one.
-Take Greg.
-Sure.
-Okay.
-Is there a problem?
Huh? Uh, no…
-See you at Aldo's.
-Yeah.
-Louis, can you drive me?
-Sure.
-Let's go.
-See ya.
-Bye, guys.
-See you.
You coming, guys?
No, I don't think so.
-Mr. Servolle.
-Chief.
A word, Chief.
Is this Mr. Faguet?
Is this the victim's husband?
-What can you tell us?
-Leave us alone.
Don't shut the door.
Come on.
Sir.
This is all routine.
What?
Marc Ensor, my second-in-command.
My friend, Faguet.
My deepest sympathies…
Thank you.
The coroner was very clear.
The shot was nearly vertical.
What a shot.
We know.
But this confirms it.
In your view,
would this angle be very difficult?
Yes.
Between this and this,
there's a world of difference.
But I could be wrong.
No, I think you're right.
We'll need to come back.
Do we have photos?
I'll get them.
This is the fourth time.
But this time, for you, I'll get him.
Louis.
-You hear me?
-Sir.
If your friend is able to…
We'll check that at the autopsy.
"Sylvia Faguet
"taught comparative literature
at Creteil University.
"Married for eight years
to a famous real-estate developer,
"the killer's fourth victim
had just turned 33."
Damn it.
The bastard.
He really fooled us.
What? It wasn't your business.
No!
What about this?
Here!
This was taken at my place, right?
In my house, in Rueil!
"His wife"!
I told him to come over for lunch
with his wife.
He says to me, "Roland, this is my wife."
"My wife, Lalie."
Sure.
But to my wife, he says "my wife"!
To my wife, "my wife," I mean, his wife!
Someone who lies to my wife, sorry,
but that's my business.
Well, maybe it's better.
That it's not Lalie.
Hello, Lalie.
Where is he?
Sit down.
And Servolle?
FAGUET REAL ESTATE
Have a seat.
Solange, wait for me in the car.
About the…
I don't know what to say.
I'm very sorry.
I hope so.
It seemed…
Silly.
Now I see why you never
invited us to Paris.
I thought you were being a snob.
No, I was happy there.
Sylvia hated it there.
It can also be read
as a real lack of confidence.
Okay.
Especially toward me.
Toward you and the others. Everyone.
Especially toward me, if I may say so.
Perhaps.
Would it kill you to apologize?
I'm sorry.
Did you love your wife?
I loved her deeply.
At least until three years ago.
And then, suddenly, no.
Not suddenly.
What about Lalie? Was she causing trouble?
Not at all.
Was your wife seeing someone?
Probably.
I think so, anyway.
You think, or you're sure?
Are you investigating me?
I'll tell you when I'm investigating.
Sorry.
For now, it's just you and me.
But just some asshole like me
trying to figure out whether his friend…
his so-called friend -- you --
is very unhappy, a little unhappy, or…
Or not at all?
Yeah.
I'd say…
between a little and a lot.
But enough, believe me.
I imagine you're not expecting
a show of emotion.
No, no.
I made you a promise.
I'll keep it.
So, my dear Servolle,
what do you conclude?
Did you get out of bed the wrong side
this morning, Dauzat?
No.
Sundays, I get up early.
I figured I'd find you up here,
and it'd be an excuse to go for a stroll.
What's your conclusion?
I conclude nothing, Your Honor.
Good morning.
It's a real pain in the ass,
these psychos bumping ladies off.
Four times, right?
It's going to sound like a lot.
You and I have seen better days.
May I?
Go ahead.
Still no motive?
So…
I wonder.
Go on.
This time,
the victim is the wife
of a close friend of mine.
Perhaps he wanted to, I don't know…
to taunt me.
Thumbing his nose at you.
Interesting.
Did you know Mrs. Faguet well?
Not at all.
Sports friendships are an odd thing.
Sometimes, you know everyone:
the wife, the kids,
but others…
You don't know anyone.
I understand.
But the same can be true in all kinds
of friendships.
And this man, the Nescafé lover,
how long have you known him?
Over a year.
Thirteen months.
Okay.
Routine, Servolle.
Don't skip the routine.
I told you to get out of here!
-We're almost done, sir.
-Get the hell out!
Christ, that smell!
Oh, hi. What did I want to tell you…
Oh, right. Routine, Ensor.
Don't skip the routine.
-That is rarely an issue for me, sir.
-Right.
It's a little damaged, isn't it?
A bit, but it's not a problem.
Okay.
I know what you're thinking,
and you'd be right.
Thank you to everyone
who came to the funeral.
I know the rest of you couldn't make it.
I have two things to say.
First, when I introduced you to Lalie,
I didn't know you well yet.
If I had known you like I do now,
I wouldn't have lied to you.
From the moment I said "my wife,"
I was trapped.
Secondly, things were over
with my wife.
We stayed together for appearances,
and for the money a little,
but it was over.
Lalie is my life now.
It was almost like
I didn't feel like it was a lie,
about Lalie.
Yeah.
Please forgive me.
I'm sorry.
Let's go!
Mr. Faguet has a mistress,
one Lalie Pierce.
He was living with her
as much as with his wife.
Stop saying "Mr." Just say "Faguet."
-Yes, sir.
-Sit down.
They were a very divided couple.
They had terrible rows.
And you're sure this is why?
No, but it seems logical.
I don't give a damn about logic!
Wait until you're sure, at least.
What else?
The military record of Mr…
Of Faguet.
Lieutenant in the mountain infantry,
very good skier.
He even represented France
in an inter-army competition,
a biathlon: skiing and shooting.
He took third place.
An excellent shot, too.
What the hell do I care?
Routine investigation, sir.
You said yourself it was a great shot.
Did I say it was Faguet?
-No, the killer.
-Right!
Where was Faguet when his wife was killed?
In Longchamp, I think.
That's good! With who?
-With you.
-Well then, Ensor!
There are limits to routine.
There's routine, and then there's idiocy!
The decision is always yours, sir.
Thank you, Servolle.
What bothers me
are these conjugal disputes,
these domestic scenes.
I wonder
if we should get a search warrant.
I'd rather not.
Say, you're a bike specialist…
Cycling, Your Honor.
Cycling.
Is it possible that a cyclist
could leave the track…
Is "track" the word?
Yes, Your Honor.
Could leave the track for a long time
without his fellow cyclists noticing?
Probably not, no.
-Are you sure?
-Yes.
Got a blowout?
Shit!
She was preventing him from living.
She was emasculating him.
I'd say it started three years ago.
The conflict between
university and money,
pleasures of the mind
versus luxury of influence.
But so intense!
Do you remember anything in particular?
You're a cop, and I'm a therapist.
I'm not an informer.
She emasculated him because
he couldn't manage to impress her.
His only masculine power,
his virility, was money.
He loved her.
The more she emasculated him,
the more he loved her.
For him, it was a question of survival.
There's no way
he couldn't have wished her dead.
Do you think he really could have?
No, sir, not at all.
Don't put words in my mouth.
Okay. Thank you.
That'll be 300 francs.
For me, Okay.
If you want me to have
killed Sylvia, Okay.
Tell me how I killed her.
And I'll sign.
Leave me alone.
I'm not the one who ordered this search.
But you're here.
-Yes.
-You didn't want it, but you're here.
Yes.
One thing.
If I had wanted to kill my wife,
do you think I'd have introduced you
to my mistress?
To you?
You, of all people!
If you'd rather go back with your friends,
that's fine.
Assuming I'm not already
under surveillance.
Oh, cut it out.
The Porsche in your driveway:
was that your wife's car?
Yeah.
She got a new one every six months
and almost never drove it.
You said that…
you were staying together
in part for money, right?
And?
Well…
Explain…
No.
I'm a little slow, but I understand.
I won't say anything
without my lawyer present.
I'm hiring Jean-Pierre.
Our friend Jean-Pierre, the lawyer.
My friend Jean-Pierre.
If you don't mind.
Not at all.
If you were looking for the rifle,
you must be disappointed.
Sorry, I don't have one.
I never have.
I don't hunt. I've never hunted,
and I shoot--
Like a pro, I know.
You know already?
Congrats.
You're good.
That was 20 years ago.
I'm sure I've lost my touch.
Unless you can prove I started up again.
You can try.
Right?
Sir,
I…
I must ask to be recused
from an investigation
regarding the murders of Mrs.
Jeanbrun, Pilitch, De Valescure,
and Faguet
because of my
relationship,
if not… friendship…
with the husband
of the fourth victim.
No. Because of my personal relationship
with…
the husband of one of the victims.
A relationship that…
could put me in an…
that could potentially put me
in a difficult position,
and could cloud my judgment
with respect to important decisions.
Uh… Shit!
A relationship that could put me
in a situation that would be…
detrimental to the investigation,
detrimental to the interests
of the investigation.
Okay.
Full stop.
New paragraph…
Yours sincerely,
Chief, etc. Full stop.
Blah blah blah.
You made the right choice.
This isn't cowardice.
This isn't me saying,
"He's my friend,
do what you want with him,
"I'm washing my hands."
Servolle…
Something's wrong?
You're not okay?
Not really, sir.
That's why I want to say…
to declare that…
Since you're the presiding judge,
to…
to formally declare
that at the moment of the crime,
I was with Faguet.
I know that.
I won't deviate from that statement.
If he needs an alibi,
I'll be there.
My dear Servolle…
No one suspects your friend
of having directly killed his wife.
But he could have…
I don't know,
he could have hired a killer,
for example.
No.
No, no.
Even that…
Even having had her killed,
it doesn't add up.
I know Faguet well.
He's kind.
He's…
He's free of guile, he's…
He doesn't have the right profile.
Well…
Sounds like love.
You love him.
Oh…
A little. He's a friend.
I'm sure you're going to display
significant talent on this case.
Thanks for your vote of confidence,
Your Honor.
You went to the right school.
The best.
That, Servolle…
is a gift.
There's three of us!
Not four, three!
-You know what?
-No.
-I've been starting to wonder…
-Brideau, Jacquier, Servolle!
That's it!
My question was: are we finally
going to be able to sleep in this house?
It was Brideau or Jacquier! So why?
He's been on the case from the start!
I've been on this blasted case!
He doesn't know a damn thing!
He's got no instincts!
All in his head, nothing in his gut!
Plus, he hates me.
As soon as he finds
something to bother me with…
What could bother you?
What do I know?
He says, trust me.
That's the cherry on top!
Calm down.
You'll give yourself a headache.
Don't worry about my head!
I'm fine.
I feel like crap. I want ten days off.
Can't you see I'm burned out?
I've seen worse.
Get some fresh air.
-What do we got?
-18.55.
We'll start again on Saturday,
in real conditions.
A Saturday, with fewer cars,
it shouldn't be over 18.
How fast is it?
You'll have to as Gloglo.
-Who?
-Le Glohennec.
He's an old pro.
He took third in the National Road Race.
Bring him.
As your lawyer, I can conclude
that this comes out to nothing.
-I want to believe you.
-Jean-Pierre?
You're a darling.
I know there's another…
-I know he recused himself.
-Yeah.
No, no.
He could have stayed on the case.
We don't care about Mr. Servolle's
misgivings here.
Hey, he's a friend.
-Nice to meet you, Le Glohennec.
-Flattered, sir.
So, these guys who ride at Longchamp,
how fast do they do it?
6.36 or 6.40.
-Mr. Servolle, too?
-No.
He's six minutes, 6.10 max.
And his friends?
They're the same.
With Mr. Servolle,
you like to keep up the pace.
Benedetti, to the board.
18 divided by 6.
That's three laps.
Yes.
That's good.
-Yes?
-Ensor.
One second, sir.
Yes?
In your calculations,
you need to add five minutes,
because your suspect always
takes his wheels off
and doesn't know how to put them back on!
You think he'd be embarrassed by his bike?
By his bicycle, Ensor!
Yes, I'm sure!
Another theory, sir:
he could have been pretending
to take his wheels off to…
To condition us?
Oh, you're a subtle one, Ensor!
We'd just need to measure.
A bike would go in a station wagon
like that with wheels on.
Well, see, there's progress!
If you've already figured that out,
there's reason to hope!
Keep it up, kid!
So you tried to bring Mr. Faguet back?
Yeah. How do you know?
We just know.
Can you tell us which lap?
At the sixth and the end of the seventh.
All of a sudden, he couldn't keep up.
He told me to keep going.
He told you.
Yes. And about the keys, too…
What keys?
What I said earlier, about the car keys.
No, you tell us when we ask you.
So Mr. Faguet was tuckered out?
That's what I said.
Hey…
Do you know who I am?
Yeah, Le Glohennec.
Right.
So watch your step.
Let me tell you.
Mr. Faguet wasn't worn out.
He paid you to say that!
We'll see you again.
But about the keys?
Keep your mouth shut about that.
I can't see you, sir.
I've already said all there is to say
about the Faguets.
I was with your colleague an hour.
I can't spend my whole life
with the police.
Goodbye.
You, sir, are the timekeeper,
the archivist,
the historian of the cycling group.
Did you bring me your statement?
-That Saturday, you did 25 laps?
-Yes.
When did you start?
9.45 a.m.
9.45 exactly?
9.44 and 56 seconds.
And when did you stop?
12.17 and 13 seconds.
Very precise.
You're a professor?
No, I'm a graduate teaching assistant.
Do you know Mrs. Faguet well?
Not at all.
I figured that you all…
No.
You should tell them.
-They won't listen!
-Sure they will.
-Ask for Ensor.
-I'm not asking for anyone!
I'm telling you, officially.
I had Faguet's car keys in my pocket.
-Don't you remember?
-Sure I do.
Isn't that proof?
Proof of what?
That it wasn't him.
Wasn't him what?
Nobody's accusing him.
Really?
I thought…
Sorry to bother you.
Maybe I shouldn't have come.
No, it's important.
But…
Cool.
At the end of the fifth lap,
9.45 to 10.15.
Faguet is with the pack.
Sixth and seventh lap, 10.15 to 10.27:
Faguet is with the Black painter.
Eighth to eleventh laps, 10.27 to 10.51:
Faguet is alone.
For 24 minutes.
Twelfth and thirteenth laps,
10.51 to 11.03:
Faguet is in another pack.
He remembers and told us so.
Fourteenth lap, 11.03 to 11.09:
Faguet is alone.
For six minutes.
Fifteenth lap, 11.09 to 11.15:
Faguet joins Jean-Pierre Louveau,
then falls behind.
Sixteenth to nineteenth laps,
11.15 to 11.39:
Faguet is alone.
For 24 minutes.
Twentieth lap, 11.39 to 11.45:
Faguet is seen by Delplanque,
who had broken some spokes.
Twenty-first lap, 11.45 to 11.51:
Faguet is alone.
For six minutes.
Twenty-first to twenty-fifth laps,
11.51 to 12.12:
Faguet is with the young Italian guy,
the Pezzi kid.
There you go.
What sticks out to you?
That's great work.
The colors…
When was the murder?
11.29.
How long would it have taken him
to get there?
18 minutes.
He has 24 minutes. That leaves him six.
11.15 to 11.39,
and the crime right in the middle.
It's obvious!
Sure, especially like this.
The Italian you mentioned, this…
Lamberti.
"Lamperti," with a P.
Corrado Lamperti.
The philosopher and political theorist.
You've never heard of him?
-No.
-That's shameful.
Why?
Was he the lover?
The lover?
You don't feel uncomfortable
putting it like that?
No.
He was, let's say…
a close friend.
He was a presence.
Only when you're a little Faguet.
Even wealthy.
Or particularly in that case.
Which doesn't help matters.
When you're just a little Faguet,
and Lamperti is brilliant,
that hurts.
Did it bother him much?
It was killing him.
Sylvia would invent things…
cruel things.
And Corrado, forget about it.
They were geniuses.
Truly.
When it came to figuring out
what could destroy
a man's pride.
And he handled it?
No. He couldn't take it.
So she was crazy.
Most definitely.
You don't understand.
Shall we go in?
It was always your problem.
For you to take them off.
You think we'll put them back on?
Well…
This doesn't seem to fit.
You're always the one
who puts them back on for me.
So.
You mean, you only took them off
so I'd put them back on?
Maybe.
How are you doing?
Me?
Your head.
All better.
How do you know about that?
Solange.
She calls me.
You don't have a key with six sections?
No.
Oh.
For that,
my wife is great.
Yeah.
You're lucky.
Go on.
Talk.
You.
I know.
It was hell.
I wouldn't say that.
What would you say?
I'd say…
it was not quite so bad.
One degree less than hell.
You can feel the difference, I swear.
The wop.
Oh…
If it had only been Corrado.
Why didn't you talk about it?
To who?
Well…
What about me?
No, no.
Why not?
Take a guess.
So I wouldn't lose you.
Are you kidding?
I didn't want you to see me humiliated.
Humiliated,
cowardly,
ugly.
You couldn't handle it?
You couldn't stand it anymore.
Yes, I killed her.
Ten times, twenty times.
In my thoughts, I killed her.
You know they came out with new brakes?
All titanium.
Hm.
But I didn't kill her.
-How are you, Chief?
-Just dandy.
Hey, Gloglo. Sit down.
How's the investigation going?
All right.
I think I heard
that Faguet didn't have his car keys
on him at the time.
Does that seem so important?
I don't know. I won't do your job for you.
No, I have a record of that.
Oh? Then I didn't say a word.
No problem.
Well, Happy Easter.
Excuse me.
Hey.
Greg, take his wheel!
Follow him!
Push!
Close in!
Good.
Thanks, guys.
No problem.
It's best that you know that
we don't think you're so great.
You know,
the way we see it…
if you had stayed on the case,
it would have been better for our friend.
I mean…
if you'd had the courage…
Yeah.
There, I've said it.
I don't do this job to do favors.
You can say that again.
And you're proving it.
A gin martini, please.
In the roof killer case,
we have just been informed
of the arrest of one Louis Faguet,
the husband of the fourth victim.
Now to the weather.
A line of clouds coming in
over the west of the country this morning.
This zone of rain will move
to the center of France later today.
In the afternoon,
it will come to the north,
the Paris Basin and the Massif Central,
the Pyrenees regions…
Ah, Servolle.
-How are you?
-Not good.
Not good?
Why?
-Faguet was arrested.
-On solid evidence.
No, I'm sorry, with just a smidge
of evidence.
Accusing and arresting are not the same!
Ensor gave me good evidence.
Not completely convincing,
but solid and well presented.
He's a diligent student.
I told you, I was with Faguet!
Alas, my friend, we're past that.
Being with someone
is somewhat of a philosophical notion.
Who can ever be sure
of being with someone?
Can I see you, sir?
-Of course. Tuesday.
-No sooner?
No, please, let me have my Easter break.
And you know,
there's no rush.
I'm leaving.
-I think it's for the best.
-Say…
Did you say what I told you?
Yes, I told them.
-You're leaving?
-Yes.
I have my car.
See you.
What's wrong with you?
You'll wake her up.
Who?
Lalie.
Are you crazy?
-The poor thing, she--
-I don't give a shit!
I'm going home.
Don't be silly. Go back to sleep.
So they're saying
he came back to kill his wife?
That's what they say.
But how?
With his car! Go to bed.
But you'll get him out?
I'll try.
You swear?
Yes, yes, Solange!
Come on.
Come on.
Ensor!
Good student.
Good cop.
If you'd allow me a word of advice.
Try to prove that…
Faguet killed the three other women, too.
I don't follow, sir.
Well…
The three other women first,
to make people think
there's a serial killer on the loose,
and then his wife after.
-I think I remember that--
-Excuse me.
…that the first three were killed
with the same gun,
and Mrs. Faguet with another.
So? Faguet's rich.
He can buy as many guns as he likes.
If you haven't thought of that,
you're not off to a good start.
We did 25 laps that day.
And I'd asked to do only 20.
He must remember.
I'm the one who asked to do fewer.
You want me to talk to him?
Yes.
And tell him to come.
To come.
Sounds like he's the one you miss.
No, I miss you.
I miss you.
What about the rifle?
How would I have transported it?
You can't hide that.
Go ahead.
Excuse me! Sir!
Yeah!
Good!
Is Ensor there?
Great! What bad luck!
Don't marry your sister on a Saturday!
Keep him warm for me.
I'm on my way.
We've got him.
Hey.
We're doing the impossible
to reach Mr. Ensor.
Oh, the possible will suffice.
-What's his name?
-Kreps.
Kreps?
Kreps.
So, your name is Kreps?
Yes, sir.
And you live…?
-In Nancy.
-Okay. And you work?
-In a factory.
-Okay.
What kind of factory?
-Weapons.
-Ah.
-Apparently you make sights.
-Yes, sir.
That's good.
So, you make sights.
No.
Come sit.
Come.
Come.
Have a seat here.
There.
And you wanted to try one out.
No, sir.
Ah…
Yes, sir.
I didn't do anything.
I was going to, but I didn't.
So on Saturdays you come down to Paris?
No, just today.
And how did you come?
By car.
What kind of car?
A Renault 4.
Okay. Let's recap.
You like the gun sights,
you wanted to try one out.
You come down to Paris,
preferably a Saturday.
-No.
-Hang on.
I didn't say "every Saturday."
I said "preferably a Saturday."
Don't worry.
We're going to get along just fine.
Fill her up, fast.
What's my name?
Servolle.
See, you know.
You told me, that's how I know.
No, you already knew!
You'd read my name in the papers.
You knew Servolle would catch you,
and you killed Mrs. Faguet
just to piss me off!
You're a real pervert, Kreps!
No, sir. I'm stupid.
Everyone says so.
Go on, eat.
Here.
Drink.
Smoke…
There's one guy who can save your neck.
Just one.
Because, you know,
four women,
don't count on a miracle.
Kreps.
Right now,
you're dead.
Eh?
I like guns, too, you know.
And you like the sights.
You're fascinated by them,
they're your whole life!
But if you confess right away,
if you confess to me,
then I can lean on that side.
I'll focus on the crazy side.
I'll frame things a certain way.
If you know how many guys saved their skin
just by confessing to someone
who truly understood them!
I'm begging you, Kreps!
You shouldn't have, Ensor…
Well, you really dress up nicely.
You should have stayed at the wedding.
The Cantal is so nice in the spring.
May I remind you
that I'm in charge of this case?
Yep, unfortunately.
But okay. I won't talk.
I won't say a word.
-Your name?
-Kreps.
-Where do you like?
-In Nancy. We've been over this.
Kreps, this is Mr. Ensor.
He's my boss, and he's an ace.
Fun time is over, pal.
For him, you killed every one.
-No.
-Oh, yes!
Every murder was a Saturday.
No, the first one was a Wednesday.
-Wednesday, March 5th.
-He's right.
So you remember the date?
-Of course.
-If I may…
No! Why "of course"?
You know. I'm crazy about sights.
Mr. Ensor and I aren't bastards.
Say the first wasn't you.
-No! Why?
-He works Wednesdays.
We'll check that.
He knows! He's not an idiot.
Okay.
But the second,
third, and fourth, that was you.
-Saturday: Kreps.
-No.
No.
No Saturday, August 9th.
I was on vacation.
Where?
In La Baule.
Sure, but with a Renault 4,
you can make some trips.
I didn't go anywhere.
-You'll check on that.
-No.
Excuse me.
-Did you want to say something?
-No.
OK.
I'll take the second victim out.
That leaves
November 6, Mrs. De Valsecure,
and February 20, Mrs. Faguet.
Where were you?
I was at home.
Careful, Kreps.
We want to be nice,
but come on, help us out!
There's two. Take one!
Which one do you want?
The fourth, Kreps.
Take Mrs. Faguet.
Come here.
Come here.
There.
See?
It's over now.
You'll get your Faguet back.
Right?
It's not that they're completely
indispensable to us,
but it's so nice when they're around.
My dear Mr. Kreps,
since you've agreed to admit to the second
and the third,
please oblige me to charge you
as well for the first,
since, as the factory has informed me,
you were on sick leave
that Wednesday for the flu.
And since in August,
the first crime was carried out
with the same gun as the second
and the third,
the same gun you had with you
the other day.
I suggest that you call upon
your intelligence
to make use of your common sense,
or vice-versa.
But let's be done with this.
That was wise.
Right?
Ah!
We're making progress.
There's just one left.
On February 20th, you were at a game.
Nancy…
Nancy-Bordeaux. Girondins de Bordeaux.
And who won?
Girondins de Bordeaux, 3-1.
And you met three of your friends
outside the stadium.
-Yes.
-Huh? Yes?
At 2:30 p.m., right?
Yes.
They've confirmed this.
You were on time.
Quite conclusive.
If my client had killed someone at 11.30,
he couldn't have made it to that match
in three hours.
In in a Renault 4,
sir.
Neuilly,
West Paris.
All of Paris to cross.
See? I'm with you.
Well, dear Kreps, finally some good news.
You didn't kill Mrs. Faguet.
Three hours and 23 minutes.
As fast as possible.
Wasn't worth it.
It's always worth a try.
You weren't taught that?
Alas, he won't.
He'll agree to have exterminated
the 16th arrondissement,
plus part of Neuilly,
but oddly enough,
he won't admit to Mrs. Faguet.
Believe me, it pains me as it does you.
And he's right.
He didn't kill her.
That remains to be proven.
It's proven. He couldn't have.
So you're no longer opposed to parole?
Sure I am.
On the contrary.
I'm increasingly opposed.
In Mr. Faguet's place…
Which is?
Upset over a troublesome woman…
I'm not exaggerating.
Yes.
I would surely have been tempted
to kill my unbearable wife
and make her look like
the serial killer's victim.
Put her on his ledger.
And for Kreps, one more, one less…
-Mr. Dauzaut, I won't allow it.
-It's all right.
Are you married, Your Honor?
No.
Well, that's why.
You think like a bachelor.
When you're married, then you've loved.
You don't kill a woman
you've loved just like that.
I love you.
-I love you.
-All right. He gets the idea.
How are you, Louis?
I'm trying.
Thanks for coming.
Of course.
About the laps, the number of laps,
did Lalie tell you?
Yes.
Do you remember I asked for fewer?
Logically -- according to your logic --
I mean…
to have the time to…
When you said 25, I should have said 30.
-30?
-Yeah.
We wouldn't have believe you.
You didn't have it in you.
There's something else.
I thought about the keys last night.
The keys to the Volvo:
I didn't have them while we were riding.
-No joke?
-Greg had them.
You can ask him.
I don't know.
When I buy a car,
they always give me two sets of keys.
Ah.
Well, sure, if you put it like that.
We have to look at it that way.
But you'll make it out.
You think so?
Yes.
On the distance.
I'll put it at 53. No, 52.
Yeah…
You think that'll change something?
-It's easier.
-Hey.
-Hey.
-Hey.
-Hey.
-Hey.
I didn't like your tone on the phone.
I come when I can, but I come.
Go ahead.
It's simple.
Let him talk.
No need for a lawyer, right?
So?
Faguet was gone between the 16th
and the 19th lap?
-I don't know.
-That's what you said.
I said nothing.
I don't know anything.
Well?
I saw him during the 17th lap.
That's good. For him, that's very good.
Where were you?
Stopped.
In February, those who weren't feeling
up to it could stop
for one lap and come back on the next.
I wasn't the only one.
Okay.
I didn't notice that day.
How do you know it was the 17th?
I was counting.
I was getting over a cold,
so I wasn't feeling great.
The Saturday before,
I quit at the 11th lap.
So I was counting
to see how I did that time.
I made it to the 16th.
You just said 17.
-Was it 16 or 17?
-Cool it, Servolle.
I stopped at the end of the 16th
and saw him go by during the 17th.
And he didn't see you.
I don't know. Why?
If he had seen you, he would have told me.
So I'm making it up?
He's forgotten, so I'm lying?
No, Jean.
Not at all.
If you're sure, then you should testify.
Only if you're sure.
He wanted to tell you sooner.
That's nice, but… go see Ensor.
Right, go talk to someone else,
that's way easier.
Why didn't you remember sooner?
I didn't know it happened
between the 16th and 19th laps.
Jean-Pierre told me.
Jean-Pierre or Franck?
Both, but Jean-Pierre first.
Ah, okay.
If you're completely sure, then testify.
And then, no more problems.
I have to go. See ya.
-Bye.
-Bye.
See you.
You were an auditor with the
Council of State.
Now you're in the budget office.
That's right.
Mr. Jousselin, one can assume
that you have a fairly meticulous mind.
I hope so.
So during the 17th lap, around…
Not "around."
Between 11.21 and 11.27.
But closer to 11.27.
Let's get this down on paper.
Since you'll sign?
Of course.
I celebrate anniversaries every 13 months.
At our age, it's better.
Thirteen months!
Thirteen months, eh?
Go for a stroll, have sex!
Shit!
Take this!
Thirteen months! Shit cop!
Sir, if you have a minute…
What's it about?
As a witness?
Are you going to have me testify
about the case?
Let's go to your office.
No, Ensor! Your place.
Formalities!
You acquired this apartment…
Eight months ago.
And did you work with Faguet Real Estate?
Yes.
What was the price?
600,000 francs.
Well…
300,000 francs I inherited.
From my father. You can check.
110,000 francs of personal savings,
and I borrowed the rest.
From a bank?
Good question, Ensor. Good.
Very good question!
Well…
I borrow from Faguet Real Estate.
But…
You're not going to ask
what the interest rate was?
What was the rate?
Eight percent.
You should be shouting!
"Eight percent?! That's low!"
Yes.
Usually it's twice that.
Yes, it was a gift.
So?
Are you charging me?
Misconduct? Complicity?
If the question is:
Was Faguet trying to make a friend
of Captain Servolle?
The answer is yes!
If the question is, did it work?
The answer is yes!
If the question is,
does Servolle now believe
that Faguet killed his wife?
Then the answer is yes, yes, and yes!
If the question is,
can the brilliant young Captain Ensor
still catch him? The answer is no!
Why?
I'm sure Jousselin lied.
The guy's a liar.
Not "the guy"!
This gentleman.
Careful.
This high-up administrator,
I know he doesn't lie.
He doesn't lie, but that's even worse.
He made a mistake.
In good faith.
And we can't do anything about that!
That's rock solid.
The perfect crime.
It'll be dismissed.
I know it.
You know it.
Judge Dauzat knows it.
All three of us know it.
Faguet
killed his wife here.
Right here.
But rest assured,
Faguet will walk away from this
as white as snow.
Because he's got solid-gold friends.
The perfect crime.
Friendship, Ensor.
Apparently, you're not familiar with it.
You're right.
For a cop,
friendship is an impossible luxury.
The perfectly perfect crime.
End scene.
I'll let you erase this.
I know this hurts you,
but less than it does me, believe me.
Everything better?
Yeah.
So, Loulou,
how you doing?
I've got so much energy.
We'll help you with that.
You don't have to train, you know.
-Hey, Faguet!
-Hey!
Hey.
-Let's go, Faguet!
-Yeah!
-Come on!
-Hey, Louis.
The pâté and the champagne.
Solange?
Where should I put this?
-At the end of the table.
-Okay.
-Don't put it all together.
-And the plates?
No, do the napkins.
Shit!
You all right?
Yeah.
I'm just fine.
Good.
Everybody's happy.
Everyone else seems glad to see me,
but not you.
You want some congratulations?
I was hoping.
Was that a new tube?
A Clement?
Yeah.
You don't have to pretend.
Pretend…?
To be interested in cycling.
But I am.
You gave me the virus.
Ah!
At least you'll have gotten that.
And?
What else? Say it.
The jackpot.
You got rid of your wife.
If that's what you think, prove it.
I think I will.
Maybe not tomorrow, but…
If it's a matter of time, I can wait.
I can wait, too. I'm in no rush.
I'm very patient.
Plus,
I've got the right end.
Oh? What?
The tracks.
What tracks?
The tracks of your car in the snow.
Well…
The tracks in front.
There were tracks?
Yes.
-You saw them?
-Yes.
Ah.
Well, that's something.
If I drove away,
then I must have killed her.
Can you prove it?
That there were tracks? No.
Too bad.
You should have taken a photo.
Oh, please.
I'll find another way. Trust me.
I do trust you.
And you think I'm pretending
to be your friend, too?
Yes.
Let's go!
-Come on!
-Let's go!
Hey, old man!
We said we'd take it easy!
Yep!
Brake!
Take my wheel!
Let's not miss the sprint.
Go!
-Push!
-Come on, Louis!
Go!
Here we go!
Don't let him get away!
Push, Louis!
Asshole!
Louis!
Louis!
Hold him.
Shit!
No, no, no.
Are you crazy?
You're crazy.
-You're all busted up.
-I'll take you to the pharmacy.
It's fine.
-Are you sure?
-Yeah.
You Okay?
Yeah.
Are you all right?
I'm fine.
Are you sure?
I'm fine.
It's nothing.
It's nothing.
Subtitle translation by: Adam Lozier