Poussière d'ange (1987) - full transcript
A tired and alcoholic police investigator has lost his wife to a hotel owner, and former pimp, but befriends a young woman which isn't at all who she claims to be.
FOR GUILLAUME AND JULIE
The train leaves at 11:15.
Martine hates missing trains.
We've been waiting around for 20 minutes.
Martine is my wife.
Since she got out of the hospital,
I must admit
she's had a very positive attitude.
Thank you!
In the taxi, she was already telling me
about her mistakes,
her regrets...
On the train,
she'll probably tell me
about the new life that awaits us,
and the child we'll need
to consolidate it.
Anyway, it's 11:02, and all is well.
I have English glasses,
an American shirt and tie, Italian shoes...
and a wife who loves me.
But things weren't always this way.
I'm happy to see you!
I was afraid you wouldn't come.
- How are you?
- Great.
Don't you think you should slow down,
Simon?
That's pretty.
How much will it get?
Simon, please.
Where...
Where are you living right now?
At the hotel.
And...
Is there... someone else?
I mean, is there someone with you
at the hotel?
Look, Simon, let's not start.
There is someone, isn't there?
What does it matter?
What would that change?
So there is someone.
Yes. There is someone.
There you go... Martine...
Can't we spare each other
these little secrets?
Do I know him?
What's his name?
You're going to laugh.
His name is Igor.
I swear.
Let me go!
Sir!
Martine!
This is the last time you'll ever see me!
- Martine!
- Sir!
I love you, Martine!
Yes, Simon?
Do you really think he makes her laugh?
Because apparently
I wasn't making her laugh anymore.
And yet, I'm very funny.
Have I ever made you laugh?
Huh, Georges-Albert?
Sure, but you know me.
I laugh at anything.
Do you know the story about the guy
who has a banana?
- In his left ear?
- No, Simon.
Stop, you're hurting yourself.
Hurting myself?
Oh, no...
I can't feel a thing anymore.
General anesthesia.
I don't have a memory. I have an eraser.
An electric eraser.
It's already half erased.
Martine.
But I do have one thing,
still, here.
And here.
Igor.
Igor...
Come on, Simon.
It's late. My animals are hungry.
I'll take you back.
Get a good night's sleep.
Tomorrow, he'll be gone.
Ah, Georges-Albert!
You remind me of my mother.
Right. In the state you're in,
you should take a taxi.
Put it all on my tab.
See you tomorrow.
Yeah, right. Safe trip.
And a Calvados... No, a Chartreuse.
Got a cig?
Thanks.
Are you kidding?
There.
Morning, boss!
- Aspirin.
- Here you go.
Why are you looking at me?
- Never seen me before?
- No water?
- What for?
- It's effervescent.
And? Besides that?
- I caught Kadir red-handed.
- Yeah.
He had a pharmacy's worth of drugs.
Stuff to sleep, to wake up,
to get ideas, and to get hard, too.
What else?
There was a robbery at the bank.
Two guys, one short, one tall.
No deaths. Got out clean.
- Hey, geniuses!
- Hey, shithead!
I've got the witnesses for you.
Three customers, two security guards,
and the employees. You'll see.
Go ahead.
Oh, I saw the boss.
We have to go through
the security footage.
What security footage?
From the bank heist.
Oh, right.
It's going to suck.
You can say that again.
The France-Brazil match...
So good!
- Really great match.
- Yeah.
"Shit."
That's what you were going to say, right?
Hey, boss.
What's going on with you these days?
Nothing.
If you had a problem, you'd tell me.
- Right?
- Of course.
So, no problem.
Say, do you know Langsfeld,
the commissioner's son-in-law?
He's got problems with his store.
Petty thefts.
I told him you'd stop by tonight.
I can't right now,
I have to pick my daughter up.
Do me this favor, Simon.
It'll take two minutes.
Thanks. I'm counting on you!
They've come by several times.
We don't know how they get in.
At some point,
I even suspected one of my saleswomen.
No security cameras, no guards?
They're on strike,
and the cameras are out of order.
As am I.
You're on strike?
No. Out of order.
Where's it been going on?
In the stockrooms.
What are you doing here?
Do you have your papers?
I don't feel well.
I'm dizzy.
I think my blood sugar's low.
Oh, shit!
Wake up. Hey!
I was far away...
You sounded so far away.
Here we go. Is that better?
Don't worry. It's my fasting day.
What time is it?
It's nine o'clock.
Nine? Are you sure?
Yes.
I can eat in 15 minutes.
What's going on?
They're closing.
- The store?
- Yeah.
Oh, no! Shit!
Hey!
Fuck!
Is there a telephone?
Yes, but they're turned off at night.
Who do you want to call?
That's none of your business.
My daughter...
She's waiting at the train station
with her backpack and skis.
Detective Blount.
What's this picnic about?
Where do you think you are? Am I dreaming?
Pack all this up.
Hurry up!
The toast... Not too dark, please.
Doesn't your wife worry
when you get home late?
She's used to it by now.
And she's okay with it?
It wasn't always easy.
Especially at first, it was tough.
Very tough.
What's her name?
Martine.
Sorry?
Martine!
Does she get jealous?
Yes, she's very jealous. Very jealous.
She's very...
- Possessive?
- That's it. Possessive.
- Very assertive. Very...
- Very passionate?
Yes. Martine was always very passionate.
Why are you doing that?
Just to see if it's still beating.
So she left you?
Well. Time for bed.
How much do we owe?
Pull over here. Just for a second.
Wait for me!
I wasn't too long?
What's your name?
If it's just for conversation's sake,
call me Violetta.
And if you don't mind,
I don't want to get too familiar.
Did I say much stupid shit last night?
These days, when I drink...
No. You were fine.
What now?
I work at this museum.
You're a guide?
No, I'm an archivist.
Archivist.
Well, see you.
See you.
Hey!
I wanted to ask you...
What's an archivist doing at night
in a supermarket?
A bet! With my colleagues.
Why, are you going to arrest me?
A ticket, please.
Fifteen francs.
Shit! I don't know anything
about the bank.
I was in Chambéry!
Hey, Simon.
I didn't catch that.
Nina?
I don't know anything about the bank.
- I was in Chambéry?
- Doing what?
So, Mrs. Gomez picked you up
from the station?
- Are you okay?
- Try me.
- Yeah. You can put me down.
- I was getting my license.
Where? From the print shop?
I swear on my mother.
You're lying.
No!
What's wrong?
- Are you sulking?
- No.
Your colleagues took them.
How was ski class?
White.
Where were you Friday
at two o'clock?
Nina, I need to tell you...
I was in Chambéry!
It's not a big deal, but,
Mom and I are staying together.
You're lying.
Uh...
I know. She already told me on the phone.
Just call your colleagues!
Come on!
I'm not asking you
to be a hero, just to find my wife.
Why don't you ask the police?
That's their job.
I'm sure they'll give you a discount.
Sure, there's your ego...
Landry.
Simon?
I'm tired of hearing you blather on.
In any case, it's a moot point.
I don't have my PI license anymore.
And you have a license for stealing dogs
from storefront windows?
Please, speak up,
I don't think the neighbors heard!
What are you going to do with the girl?
I don't know. I don't want to go home.
Where are you going to live, then?
At the hotel.
Why not in a trailer while you're at it?
Simon, be serious.
You need to look after Nina.
She needs a regular schedule
and a healthy diet.
Someone needs to take care of her.
- A mother.
- Exactly.
I'll take care of Nina.
For you, there's the fold-out bed,
and for Martine...
It'd be... 1,000 francs a week,
plus utilities.
Do you have photos?
We split the chores.
Georges-Albert in the day, me at night.
I couldn't sleep anymore, anyway.
Hey. Fill her up.
Ever seen her?
Who is she?
A whore?
Yeah, that's right.
A whore.
Martine!
I'm sorry!
Excuse me.
Oh!
It's you?
- Can I help you?
- No.
Don't touch.
What is all this shit?
Nothing... They're my symbols.
Ah, symbols... Churches...
So...
Were you doing something?
No, nothing.
We could talk for a bit.
Then you'll take me home.
Talk about what?
I don't know. About Martine.
Oh, no, no...
I used to like it when...
Before we'd have sex,
when she'd get up to shower.
She always wore a top,
her blouse, and I...
I'd imagine the sounds,
the water, the soap...
Her fingers, most of all.
I'd wish I could be her fingers.
She'd always leave the door open.
Don't you think you just imagined
the door being open?
I don't know anymore...
Maybe I made the whole thing up.
Got anything to talk about?
Doesn't matter what.
I've got nothing to tell.
Just start from the beginning!
It's not so far away.
Well, for me, it started in Mozambique.
I mean, I...
I was almost born in Mozambique.
I was born on a plane.
I grew up in Africa.
We traveled a lot
because of my father's work.
Somalia, Central Africa, and Tanganyika.
Tanganyika is beautiful.
Go on.
I liked Kismayo most.
We had a big white house there,
with aquariums all over.
Dad was a specialist
in fish from the Red Sea.
At night,
we'd row down the river in a dugout canoe,
gliding noiselessly...
Where are we?
At my parents' place.
Ah...
If it helps, we can meet tomorrow.
7 p.m. at the museum?
Hey!
I was wondering... Are you taking notes?
Because... The cuckold cop
is an interesting character
for your colleagues.
You know: "His wife will come back,
she won't come back...
Will he shoot her or won't he?" Right?
What did you bet on?
If it bothers you, Simon,
we can stop seeing each other.
- "Sent."
- "S-e-n-t."
...incomplete address.
The piece played...
- Again.
- That's nice.
Was met with success.
- Helped...
- By a friend.
She was able to repair the engine...
Good morning!
I wonder what you spend your nights
doing while I walk around in my loafers.
I went down to Tanganyika.
Is that a brand of vodka?
Right.
If you're still interested in your wife,
I can tell you
that I visited every restaurant
in the city.
75 miles!
- And?
- And, so.
They were seen a few times.
But no trace of a check.
They pay in cash.
But what's his name? Igor what?
Are you listening?
No checks!
No check, no name.
Speaking of checks,
you owe me one for last week.
Oh, well, no name, no check.
How am I supposed to feed her?
In the lining of the coat.
Get fresh squid.
You clean it inside, remove the tentacles,
the head, and the legs,
cut it up into medium-size pieces,
blanch it in a half-pound of spinach,
salt and pepper, then sauté with some oil...
A razor blade, perhaps.
Bring it all together with egg yolks...
How long?
About 30 minutes over low heat.
Not the squid, Morgan, him!
Oh, he was still warm.
His wife found him.
Ah.
Come here.
He got this two days ago in the mail.
- Does he have a record?
- Yes.
Raymond Canovas, 55.
I don't have my glasses.
- Huh?
- I don't have my glasses!
Record includes pimping,
armed robbery, extortion,
in '69, worked for Fournier Labs
for eight years.
In '78, he got into insurance.
Since then, nothing.
Hello, ma'am.
I'm looking for an archivist.
Her name is Violetta.
There are no Violettas here.
Violetta what?
Do you have any other information?
No, she's a little... With...
- I'm not sure I see...
- Simon!
Thank you.
Were you courting Mrs. Menange?
No, I was just asking her where you were.
And she said I wasn't here?
She doesn't know anything.
She's only been here a week.
Were you unsure about coming?
No, why? Where are we going?
Same as yesterday.
That's the guy you're looking for.
In the gray suit, talking to the old lady.
What's his name?
Igor Malévitch.
He's the manager of the hotel.
And where's Martine?
Suite 408-409, a private apartment.
Who's the guy who moved in with you?
A friend, Jean-Etienne.
Friend.
What does he have that I don't?
Fifteen fewer years.
And as good a personality.
Where's the phone?
There.
Sir!
It's for you.
- For me?
- A courier just came by.
Thank you.
Hello?
Landry? I don't have time.
Huh? Where?
Don't go anywhere, I'm on my way.
I'll be right back.
What's going on?
I said I'll be right back!
- Evening, sir.
- Evening.
Ah, Simon.
You have to go about this calmly.
I mean, peacefully.
Where is she?
Simon, I'm begging you,
don't do anything stupid.
- Where is she?
- Act reasonably.
Here's what I propose.
Listen. I'll call him,
and I'll imply
that you're waiting at the bar,
calm, relaxed.
- A responsible man!
- Which room?
Top floor. The two windows, there.
Got it.
I want all the exposures, everything.
I'm going to beat the shit out of them!
What room number?
408-409.
I'm going to kill them!
- Simon!
- Bitch!
Simon, please,
what are you going to do?
I'll be ready in five minutes.
Jesus Christ!
Quick, call a doctor!
Police! Call the police!
Martine?
Huh?
Are you all right?
Are you in pain?
Do you want anything?
Do you want a drink?
Where is he?
What?
Igor...
Where is he?
He's nowhere.
He's dead.
He hit the bucket, old Igor.
Four shots, point blank.
There's not much left of him,
nothing but a little pile of manure,
with a nice pair of balls
right in the middle
that he never even got to make use of.
I know... I did my research.
If you want them, let me know.
What's going on, Simon?
Nothing!
The question box is closed. All full up.
No more questions,
no more answers, nothing.
Hey, Blount...
I might have some info on the whore
you're after.
Beat it, Marcel.
What are you waiting for?
You going to follow me around all night?
I told you I wanted to be alone!
Alone.
I don't feel like talking.
Leave me alone.
Martine came back.
Right?
She came back?
Yes, she came back.
Now beat it.
Give me some air!
...waiting...
What happened isn't important, Simon.
What matters is what we tell ourselves.
What's in our heads.
You should tell it differently.
I think she was happy to see you.
She was overwhelmed,
so she didn't say anything.
When you're overwhelmed, you don't talk.
That's how it happened?
Right, Simon?
And then she cried, and she kissed you...
Right?
Right. That's what happened.
Then she said she was sorry
and loved only you.
Did she say that?
Yes.
And you forgave her.
You did the right thing.
What's wrong, Georges-Albert?
This is really top shelf, Simon.
We're mixed up in a murder, for starters.
Last night, I'll have you know,
I came back via the roofs.
Everything was blocked, cop cars,
so now we're not going out!
All right. The photos!
Yes.
There's your photos.
And here's your bill.
5,872 francs TTC, including tax,
and here's what I'll do with it.
You owe me nothing, I owe you nothing,
we don't know each other!
Hey!
These photos are crap!
Sorry, I was shaking,
but it's not every day
you photograph a murderer.
I need to see you...
Later. I don't have time right now.
COMMISONNER'S OFFICE
I spoke to the press,
and your name won't be mentioned.
But I am going to ask you
to be reasonable.
What's that mean?
Ask to be transferred.
I'll support it.
It's just a suggestion, of course, but...
I know how it'll go.
Your life will be hell.
In the meantime,
stay off the Malévitch investigation.
Is that a suggestion, too?
Don't complicate matters.
Please.
I understand.
Goodnight, sir.
Simon!
I always wanted to say
that I'm very sorry
about everything you're going through.
I hope it'll work out.
That's all.
Detective Blount. Are you new here?
Yes.
- Already bribable?
- Oh, yes.
Say a number from 1 to 100.
Uh... 500.
I want a name.
October 23rd, 7:15.
I, the undersigned, Paul Morgane,
coroner, having examined
the body of a 52-year-old man.
Inspection.
The rigidity of the body puts
the time of death around 24 hours earlier.
Lips are not cyanotic.
Slanting marks on the back
indicate that the body
was not moved post-mortem.
Did you get the record?
- Yeah.
- So, read.
- Huh?
- Read!
So: Igor Malévitch, 52,
was arrested for procuring in '69,
owned several brothels.
His specialty was highway sites.
Charged several times, always acquitted.
In 1980,
he buys the Lennox, the Mykonos,
and good conduct.
Christ! A cop's wife
with a pimp! Isn't that something?
I'll have to start telling my life story
another way!
Thank you!
What's this?
You wear red nail polish, now?
It was Godfather.
How's work?
We got a 15/20 in Dictation,
17 in Geography,
and we haven't given up hope
of being first in Math.
I'm doing a show at school. Want to see?
Of course I do!
Attention, ladies and gentlemen,
the Blount Circus presents
an extraordinary number
starring Balthazar and Trompette.
Yeah! Bravo!
That's great!
Hey, geniuses!
- Hey, shithead.
- Hey, shithead.
Hey, Blount, congratulations.
Must be nice to have found your wife,
right?
Especially since she was well-stocked,
I hear!
You're right, Malpeche.
The cuckold cop, you find that funny?
Here!
Oh, shit!
- What an idiot!
- Oh, that's good.
When he's recovered, you should try.
Say.
- Yeah?
- We might have a lead.
We found a package with a rat
in the hotel trashcans.
Who's running the case?
- Shithead.
- Oh, good. Good.
What about the bank robbery?
We've stalled there.
I've got 20 hours of video.
My eyes are killing me.
And I'm switching to the Canovas case.
If you're interested, the tapes are here.
Dad?
Yes, honey?
I wrote a poem for Mom.
You wrote a poem for Mom?
That's good.
Can I take Balthazar to the hospital?
No, you can't take dogs to the hospital,
it's not allowed.
That's not cool.
I know, but... That's how it is.
Want me to read it to you?
Yeah, go ahead. I'm listening.
- Mrs. Menange?
- Excuse me?
Are you not Mrs. Menange?
No, not at all, why?
Oh... Nothing.
Do you want a ticket?
Yeah, give me a ticket.
AFRICAN ART
Evening, Simon.
Evening, Violetta.
I'm beat. The entire Charles Fontans
donation to go through.
We kept putting it off till the next day,
and that was today.
Your cartography colleagues didn't help?
Simon, it's a completely different job!
Is it because I'm a cop that you
haven't introduced me to your folks?
Huh? Just tell them I'm an architect.
Don't be silly, Simon.
Do you really want to meet them?
Yeah, I think I'd like it.
- Really?
- Yeah.
Then come for dinner tomorrow.
Why not? Should I bring something?
No, we'll have everything.
Goodnight, Simon.
Goodnight.
Here you go.
That's what the machine found.
Gabriel Spielmaker.
Auto theft, breaking into a store...
This is a small-time stuff.
Hey, Blount,
I hear you're on a winning streak!
If you want to bet
on the France-Italy game, let me know!
Gabriel Spielmaker,
came here October 1970. He was five.
The psychologist's reports
weren't very good.
Anxiety, developmentally delayed,
very difficult personality.
He never made it more than a week
with foster families.
No family?
Nothing. He was abandoned at birth.
Social services gave him to us. Hang on!
Here.
School year '75'-'76.
This was the end-of-the-year festival.
He's on the right page.
- Recognize him?
- Yes.
Who's the girl beside him?
Do you remember her?
Violetta.
They were inseparable.
If someone scolded Violetta,
Gabriel would get upset.
If Gabriel fell, Violetta would cry.
It's always the same thing with kids.
There's the bright ones and the dull ones.
Violetta was always so vivacious,
always had a story to tell.
One day, she got it into Gabriel's head
that he was immortal.
We had to call the fire department
to get him down from the chapel roof.
- What's Violetta's last name?
- Reverdy.
Violetta Reverdy.
With a "y," like the poet.
Do you know her, Mr. Blount?
Oh, vaguely...
Tell me:
Violetta doesn't have problems
with the police, does she?
- No, not at all.
- Good. I was worried.
You know, I always thought
she could do something brilliant.
Really? Like what?
In my day, she'd have been an explorer,
or a test pilot.
But what would it be today?
A bank robbery, for example.
- Pardon?
- Nothing.
Reverdy is her father's name?
No, she never knew him.
It's her mother's name.
She was a prostitute.
And do you know where I can find her?
- Who, her mother?
- Yes.
She's dead. She died in 1972.
A car accident.
Violetta's an orphan?
This is an orphanage, Mr. Blount.
Mr. Blount!
I held on to this,
if you're interested.
Prostitute's body found on the highway.
July 10th, 1969.
The occupants of the car
that fatally wounded the young prostitute
Suzanne Reverdy have been identified.
They are Roberto Canovas
and Igor Malévitch,
two pimps known to the police.
Canovas and Malévitch...
The two men testified Thursday afternoon
before Judge Patay.
You're late. What happened?
I thought you'd forgotten.
Forgotten what?
Dinner with my parents.
No, I didn't forget.
My father, my mother.
Simon Blount.
Nice to meet you, sir.
Nice to meet you, sir.
So, you're an architect?
That's right.
Please.
I hope you like lamb?
Oh...
- What time is it?
- Half past.
Excuse me, I have to check on the oven.
She's a little tense,
it's not every day we have company over.
Can I get you something? Scotch, vodka?
Two fingers of whisky
with a little sparkling water.
Great!
I forgot to tell you.
It's Dad's birthday.
- Ah!
- Here!
What is it?
A lighter, so you won't be empty-handed.
- Okay.
- I'm going to help Mom.
The frog says, "You're insane.
We know you've been stealing..."
The mother showed me photos of the kids.
The cousin told me about the first time
he flirted with Violetta.
I went over Tanganyika,
but with the father, this time.
That's Africa!
That's a good one!
Well, I'll go get the cake.
Let me help you.
Be right back.
What are you working on right now,
Mr. Blount?
I have to confess something, ma'am.
I'm not really an architect.
Ah? But my daughter said...
Yeah, that was a bit of a joke.
So, what do you do, Mr. Blount?
Guess.
- You're a businessman?
- No.
A public servant?
Warmer.
I'll give you a hint.
So... It's tricolor,
and it's reassuring to honest folk.
A flag?
No, I said "reassuring."
- I don't get it.
- No?
Detective Blount, criminal affairs.
Oh, no! Let me explain.
She came and found us at the theater.
She offered us money.
We're actors, Detective.
We thought it was all just a prank,
a friendly joke.
I'll tell the others that we're leaving.
No, let's keep it up.
What do we do?
Whatever was planned.
I'm sure you'll be a hit.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, dear Dad
Happy birthday to you!
- Thank you! Great job.
- Our pleasure, Mr. Blount.
I hope you weren't bored.
Not for one second.
I wanted to tell you that tonight...
I was completely happy.
Goodnight.
See you tomorrow!
See you tomorrow.
Gabriel?
Gabriel?
Gabriel?
Gabriel?
Gabriel!
Why did you leave me all alone?
I don't want to stay here alone.
I'm here now. Calm down.
My head hurts.
I'm here.
I heard noises all day.
I waited for you.
My head hurts.
I'm here!
Did you take your medicine?
No, I was waiting for you.
Don't leave me alone anymore.
- Promise?
- I promise.
The two angels that the prophet
saw on either side of God's throne
each had six wings.
With two of them,
they were covering their feet,
which symbolizes blindness and abnegation.
With two other wings,
they were covering their faces
to signify shadows and understanding.
Are you asleep?
Finally, with the other two wings,
they were flying,
which symbolizes the flight of hope
and the passage into the night of meaning.
It's time to sleep. Okay? Will you sleep?
MAIL
Good evening, Simon.
Evening.
What did you do today?
Nothing important.
I have something for you.
- What is it?
- A present.
Can't you wait a little?
For what, the next collection?
I think I like you more
when you're a wreck.
Sobriety isn't good for you.
What are you looking for?
The name of the next victim.
Ah. I see.
Who is it, then?
Who is it?
Can't you respond?
I'm sick of never being told anything!
Simon!
Come, he said.
Let me show you the sentencing
of the great prostitute,
Babylon the great,
the mother of a prostitute
and of all the earth's wickedness.
I saw her drunk on the blood of the saints
and the blood of the martyrs of Jesus.
The rest, I will sing to you
in the hollow of your dead ear.
Has your wife started rehab?
- Yes.
- How's it going?
- Good.
- Great.
I wanted to talk to you
about your transfer...
I have a friend from university
out in Bordeaux.
Henri Alard is his name.
If you're interested, I could call him.
It'd be no problem.
Talk to your wife about it,
and then let me know.
That's nice of you. I'll think it over.
There's no rush, of course,
but yeah, think about it.
Bordeaux is a beautiful city.
That's what I hear.
Oh, I forgot to give you your mail.
I picked it up for you.
Thank you.
Do you need something?
Uh... Aren't you going to open it?
No, uh...
Do you know Suzanne Reverdy?
No.
Why, should I?
Can you be more precise?
A prostitute, murdered in 1972
by her pimps, Malévitch and Canovas.
You were in charge of the case.
That's possible.
No, I'm sure of it.
Tell me, Simon...
What are you insinuating?
That I didn't do my job?
That I lied?
That I covered up for criminals?
That's very serious.
And it's preposterous.
If it's preposterous,
then why not open it?
Because I know what's inside?
One per day for the past two weeks.
Three hours of daily curses...
You get tired of it.
Now, detective,
I need you to tell me what happened.
Your story is rather unremarkable.
The mother's a whore,
she dies in a murky scenario,
there's a vague rumor of a scandal,
two crooks are accused,
and the case is closed for want of proof.
It's simple.
What's not so simple
is what the orphaned girl is thinking.
For her, the story must have meaning.
If her mother died,
there must be a guilty party.
Several would be even better.
And if the police closed the case,
then they must be in on it.
What do you want me to say?
If we don't find her soon,
someone else will.
And then we'll find her
in the port, her hands tied,
and a bullet in her head.
If you know where she is, bring her to me.
At least that way, she'll live.
This has to stop, Violetta.
Because... I can't do it anymore.
So here's what we're going to do.
I'll get you across the border,
and then we'll see.
But this has to stop!
I can't do it!
That's good.
I bought you chicken,
some spring rolls, and vodka.
Maybe that was a mistake.
- Do you like it?
- Yes.
Where are we going?
We're driving.
Is something wrong, Simon?
Where are we going?
We're driving.
Are you coming, honey?
Take me home, Simon.
I'm tired, and I have a headache!
You wouldn't believe
how much work I had at the museum!
I don't know what's going on!
I can't understand a thing!
I want to go home!
That's enough!
There is no more home, Violetta.
No more parents.
No more Africa. Nothing.
This has to stop. You hear me?
I can't take it.
I'm tired.
I can't spend my time following you around
and waiting for it to happen again.
I can't.
And...
I don't want to lose you.
Understand?
Violetta!
Stop!
Stop!
If you love me, please... Shoot.
Murder or accident?
An article by JE Strauss.
The innocent parties
thank their lawyer, Mr. Broz.
He's earned it.
My God!
Mr. Strauss,
you did write these articles, did you not?
- Yes.
- Ah.
Then who killed Suzanne Reverdy?
Canovas and Malévitch.
Thanks, but I already know that.
Let me ask the question another way.
Whose interest was it in that she die?
Why did he do it?
He was Suzanne's lover.
He's the kid's father.
Blount?
It's me.
It's Florimont.
Simon?
Are you there?
Simon?
I came alone.
Like you asked.
Why didn't you say anything?
Is the girl here?
Yes. She's here.
Well...
We should hurry. My car's downstairs.
Not so fast!
You have time to blow out your candles.
Eat a piece of cake...
Maybe you even have time to drink
a glass of champagne.
Yeah, I made noise with my mouth, because...
This is all so old.
Have a seat.
The girl isn't here, is she?
Sit down.
Oh, it's strange.
The more I look at you,
the more I see how much she resembles you.
Physically, of course, because otherwise...
What do you want?
A confession.
Confess what?
The truth.
The naked truth.
I'll help you out.
It's the story of a young, ambitious cop.
Nice marriage, promising future,
and then one day,
bang.
The blunder.
The blunder is Suzanne Reverdy.
She's young, 25 years old,
and pretty sexy.
Still not coming back to you?
Go on.
What was I saying?
Did I mention the child?
No, no, I didn't.
One day, the whore gets pregnant
with a little girl.
Her name will be Violetta.
Pretty, isn't it?
Obviously, she wants him
to acknowledge her as his daughter.
But he can't, because the nice marriage,
career, etc.
So she insists.
She's even a bit crude about it.
She comes and stands below his window
with the baby and shouts.
Crude, you know.
Right?
So what does this young, ambitious cop do?
Well, he organizes a little rodeo
with two young thugs to scare Suzanne.
And she was never scared again.
Can I get up? Are you done?
No, no, not quite.
I'd like to say something else.
Until today, I really admired you.
At some point,
I even tried to be like you.
A long time ago.
So now, I'm having some trouble...
Picturing you with a shitty future.
I've turned all the options over
in my mind.
I think this is the only
appropriate way out.
Well, it's what I would do, anyway.
Goodnight.
Simon?
Sir?
You're right, of course.
You're right about everything.
The only problem
is that you have no proof.
You know why?
Because I've got it all sewn up, Simon.
It's all been erased.
You know me: I'm a perfectionist!
So, now you're going to give me the girl.
There! That's a confession.
Now, lights!
I hope I pressed the right button.
And we're off...
Detective, if you want to bet a few bucks,
now's your last chance.
I didn't find any Reverdy
in the hooker files,
not a Suzanne, anyway.
There's a... There's one,
but her name is Violetta.
She works for Cindy Ballouche.
Who is it?
- Cindy Ballouche?
- Yeah, why?
Where is Violetta Reverdy?
I don't know her.
Okay, I'm getting married.
- You have ten seconds.
- You're right.
You've got ten seconds to beat it!
On your knees! Don't move!
Let's go!
Where is Violetta Reverdy?
- She's covering for me!
- Where?
At Broz, the lawyer! You're hurting me!
Let me go, you bastard!
Broz was the lawyer
who defended her mother's killers.
He was the last on her list.
Yeah?
Come here.
Come here.
- How old are you?
- Twenty-one.
Did Cindy find you?
Did she tell you what I like?
Yes, sir.
Don't call me sir.
Is this your first time doing this?
Yes, sir.
The bathroom's over there. Go wash up.
Hold me tight...
What are you doing here?
I already have someone.
I know, but he wanted two.
Bullseye.
Stay there. Don't move.
Suck me off.
Killer!
No, Simon!
No!
Take care of her. I'll take care of them.
Gabriel!
That night, we crossed the border.
When the sun came up,
she was asleep in the back seat,
sleeping like a baby.
She didn't wake up when I carried her
to the hotel room.
It was probably for the best.
What are you thinking about?
About you, darling.
Subtitle translation by: Adam Lozier
The train leaves at 11:15.
Martine hates missing trains.
We've been waiting around for 20 minutes.
Martine is my wife.
Since she got out of the hospital,
I must admit
she's had a very positive attitude.
Thank you!
In the taxi, she was already telling me
about her mistakes,
her regrets...
On the train,
she'll probably tell me
about the new life that awaits us,
and the child we'll need
to consolidate it.
Anyway, it's 11:02, and all is well.
I have English glasses,
an American shirt and tie, Italian shoes...
and a wife who loves me.
But things weren't always this way.
I'm happy to see you!
I was afraid you wouldn't come.
- How are you?
- Great.
Don't you think you should slow down,
Simon?
That's pretty.
How much will it get?
Simon, please.
Where...
Where are you living right now?
At the hotel.
And...
Is there... someone else?
I mean, is there someone with you
at the hotel?
Look, Simon, let's not start.
There is someone, isn't there?
What does it matter?
What would that change?
So there is someone.
Yes. There is someone.
There you go... Martine...
Can't we spare each other
these little secrets?
Do I know him?
What's his name?
You're going to laugh.
His name is Igor.
I swear.
Let me go!
Sir!
Martine!
This is the last time you'll ever see me!
- Martine!
- Sir!
I love you, Martine!
Yes, Simon?
Do you really think he makes her laugh?
Because apparently
I wasn't making her laugh anymore.
And yet, I'm very funny.
Have I ever made you laugh?
Huh, Georges-Albert?
Sure, but you know me.
I laugh at anything.
Do you know the story about the guy
who has a banana?
- In his left ear?
- No, Simon.
Stop, you're hurting yourself.
Hurting myself?
Oh, no...
I can't feel a thing anymore.
General anesthesia.
I don't have a memory. I have an eraser.
An electric eraser.
It's already half erased.
Martine.
But I do have one thing,
still, here.
And here.
Igor.
Igor...
Come on, Simon.
It's late. My animals are hungry.
I'll take you back.
Get a good night's sleep.
Tomorrow, he'll be gone.
Ah, Georges-Albert!
You remind me of my mother.
Right. In the state you're in,
you should take a taxi.
Put it all on my tab.
See you tomorrow.
Yeah, right. Safe trip.
And a Calvados... No, a Chartreuse.
Got a cig?
Thanks.
Are you kidding?
There.
Morning, boss!
- Aspirin.
- Here you go.
Why are you looking at me?
- Never seen me before?
- No water?
- What for?
- It's effervescent.
And? Besides that?
- I caught Kadir red-handed.
- Yeah.
He had a pharmacy's worth of drugs.
Stuff to sleep, to wake up,
to get ideas, and to get hard, too.
What else?
There was a robbery at the bank.
Two guys, one short, one tall.
No deaths. Got out clean.
- Hey, geniuses!
- Hey, shithead!
I've got the witnesses for you.
Three customers, two security guards,
and the employees. You'll see.
Go ahead.
Oh, I saw the boss.
We have to go through
the security footage.
What security footage?
From the bank heist.
Oh, right.
It's going to suck.
You can say that again.
The France-Brazil match...
So good!
- Really great match.
- Yeah.
"Shit."
That's what you were going to say, right?
Hey, boss.
What's going on with you these days?
Nothing.
If you had a problem, you'd tell me.
- Right?
- Of course.
So, no problem.
Say, do you know Langsfeld,
the commissioner's son-in-law?
He's got problems with his store.
Petty thefts.
I told him you'd stop by tonight.
I can't right now,
I have to pick my daughter up.
Do me this favor, Simon.
It'll take two minutes.
Thanks. I'm counting on you!
They've come by several times.
We don't know how they get in.
At some point,
I even suspected one of my saleswomen.
No security cameras, no guards?
They're on strike,
and the cameras are out of order.
As am I.
You're on strike?
No. Out of order.
Where's it been going on?
In the stockrooms.
What are you doing here?
Do you have your papers?
I don't feel well.
I'm dizzy.
I think my blood sugar's low.
Oh, shit!
Wake up. Hey!
I was far away...
You sounded so far away.
Here we go. Is that better?
Don't worry. It's my fasting day.
What time is it?
It's nine o'clock.
Nine? Are you sure?
Yes.
I can eat in 15 minutes.
What's going on?
They're closing.
- The store?
- Yeah.
Oh, no! Shit!
Hey!
Fuck!
Is there a telephone?
Yes, but they're turned off at night.
Who do you want to call?
That's none of your business.
My daughter...
She's waiting at the train station
with her backpack and skis.
Detective Blount.
What's this picnic about?
Where do you think you are? Am I dreaming?
Pack all this up.
Hurry up!
The toast... Not too dark, please.
Doesn't your wife worry
when you get home late?
She's used to it by now.
And she's okay with it?
It wasn't always easy.
Especially at first, it was tough.
Very tough.
What's her name?
Martine.
Sorry?
Martine!
Does she get jealous?
Yes, she's very jealous. Very jealous.
She's very...
- Possessive?
- That's it. Possessive.
- Very assertive. Very...
- Very passionate?
Yes. Martine was always very passionate.
Why are you doing that?
Just to see if it's still beating.
So she left you?
Well. Time for bed.
How much do we owe?
Pull over here. Just for a second.
Wait for me!
I wasn't too long?
What's your name?
If it's just for conversation's sake,
call me Violetta.
And if you don't mind,
I don't want to get too familiar.
Did I say much stupid shit last night?
These days, when I drink...
No. You were fine.
What now?
I work at this museum.
You're a guide?
No, I'm an archivist.
Archivist.
Well, see you.
See you.
Hey!
I wanted to ask you...
What's an archivist doing at night
in a supermarket?
A bet! With my colleagues.
Why, are you going to arrest me?
A ticket, please.
Fifteen francs.
Shit! I don't know anything
about the bank.
I was in Chambéry!
Hey, Simon.
I didn't catch that.
Nina?
I don't know anything about the bank.
- I was in Chambéry?
- Doing what?
So, Mrs. Gomez picked you up
from the station?
- Are you okay?
- Try me.
- Yeah. You can put me down.
- I was getting my license.
Where? From the print shop?
I swear on my mother.
You're lying.
No!
What's wrong?
- Are you sulking?
- No.
Your colleagues took them.
How was ski class?
White.
Where were you Friday
at two o'clock?
Nina, I need to tell you...
I was in Chambéry!
It's not a big deal, but,
Mom and I are staying together.
You're lying.
Uh...
I know. She already told me on the phone.
Just call your colleagues!
Come on!
I'm not asking you
to be a hero, just to find my wife.
Why don't you ask the police?
That's their job.
I'm sure they'll give you a discount.
Sure, there's your ego...
Landry.
Simon?
I'm tired of hearing you blather on.
In any case, it's a moot point.
I don't have my PI license anymore.
And you have a license for stealing dogs
from storefront windows?
Please, speak up,
I don't think the neighbors heard!
What are you going to do with the girl?
I don't know. I don't want to go home.
Where are you going to live, then?
At the hotel.
Why not in a trailer while you're at it?
Simon, be serious.
You need to look after Nina.
She needs a regular schedule
and a healthy diet.
Someone needs to take care of her.
- A mother.
- Exactly.
I'll take care of Nina.
For you, there's the fold-out bed,
and for Martine...
It'd be... 1,000 francs a week,
plus utilities.
Do you have photos?
We split the chores.
Georges-Albert in the day, me at night.
I couldn't sleep anymore, anyway.
Hey. Fill her up.
Ever seen her?
Who is she?
A whore?
Yeah, that's right.
A whore.
Martine!
I'm sorry!
Excuse me.
Oh!
It's you?
- Can I help you?
- No.
Don't touch.
What is all this shit?
Nothing... They're my symbols.
Ah, symbols... Churches...
So...
Were you doing something?
No, nothing.
We could talk for a bit.
Then you'll take me home.
Talk about what?
I don't know. About Martine.
Oh, no, no...
I used to like it when...
Before we'd have sex,
when she'd get up to shower.
She always wore a top,
her blouse, and I...
I'd imagine the sounds,
the water, the soap...
Her fingers, most of all.
I'd wish I could be her fingers.
She'd always leave the door open.
Don't you think you just imagined
the door being open?
I don't know anymore...
Maybe I made the whole thing up.
Got anything to talk about?
Doesn't matter what.
I've got nothing to tell.
Just start from the beginning!
It's not so far away.
Well, for me, it started in Mozambique.
I mean, I...
I was almost born in Mozambique.
I was born on a plane.
I grew up in Africa.
We traveled a lot
because of my father's work.
Somalia, Central Africa, and Tanganyika.
Tanganyika is beautiful.
Go on.
I liked Kismayo most.
We had a big white house there,
with aquariums all over.
Dad was a specialist
in fish from the Red Sea.
At night,
we'd row down the river in a dugout canoe,
gliding noiselessly...
Where are we?
At my parents' place.
Ah...
If it helps, we can meet tomorrow.
7 p.m. at the museum?
Hey!
I was wondering... Are you taking notes?
Because... The cuckold cop
is an interesting character
for your colleagues.
You know: "His wife will come back,
she won't come back...
Will he shoot her or won't he?" Right?
What did you bet on?
If it bothers you, Simon,
we can stop seeing each other.
- "Sent."
- "S-e-n-t."
...incomplete address.
The piece played...
- Again.
- That's nice.
Was met with success.
- Helped...
- By a friend.
She was able to repair the engine...
Good morning!
I wonder what you spend your nights
doing while I walk around in my loafers.
I went down to Tanganyika.
Is that a brand of vodka?
Right.
If you're still interested in your wife,
I can tell you
that I visited every restaurant
in the city.
75 miles!
- And?
- And, so.
They were seen a few times.
But no trace of a check.
They pay in cash.
But what's his name? Igor what?
Are you listening?
No checks!
No check, no name.
Speaking of checks,
you owe me one for last week.
Oh, well, no name, no check.
How am I supposed to feed her?
In the lining of the coat.
Get fresh squid.
You clean it inside, remove the tentacles,
the head, and the legs,
cut it up into medium-size pieces,
blanch it in a half-pound of spinach,
salt and pepper, then sauté with some oil...
A razor blade, perhaps.
Bring it all together with egg yolks...
How long?
About 30 minutes over low heat.
Not the squid, Morgan, him!
Oh, he was still warm.
His wife found him.
Ah.
Come here.
He got this two days ago in the mail.
- Does he have a record?
- Yes.
Raymond Canovas, 55.
I don't have my glasses.
- Huh?
- I don't have my glasses!
Record includes pimping,
armed robbery, extortion,
in '69, worked for Fournier Labs
for eight years.
In '78, he got into insurance.
Since then, nothing.
Hello, ma'am.
I'm looking for an archivist.
Her name is Violetta.
There are no Violettas here.
Violetta what?
Do you have any other information?
No, she's a little... With...
- I'm not sure I see...
- Simon!
Thank you.
Were you courting Mrs. Menange?
No, I was just asking her where you were.
And she said I wasn't here?
She doesn't know anything.
She's only been here a week.
Were you unsure about coming?
No, why? Where are we going?
Same as yesterday.
That's the guy you're looking for.
In the gray suit, talking to the old lady.
What's his name?
Igor Malévitch.
He's the manager of the hotel.
And where's Martine?
Suite 408-409, a private apartment.
Who's the guy who moved in with you?
A friend, Jean-Etienne.
Friend.
What does he have that I don't?
Fifteen fewer years.
And as good a personality.
Where's the phone?
There.
Sir!
It's for you.
- For me?
- A courier just came by.
Thank you.
Hello?
Landry? I don't have time.
Huh? Where?
Don't go anywhere, I'm on my way.
I'll be right back.
What's going on?
I said I'll be right back!
- Evening, sir.
- Evening.
Ah, Simon.
You have to go about this calmly.
I mean, peacefully.
Where is she?
Simon, I'm begging you,
don't do anything stupid.
- Where is she?
- Act reasonably.
Here's what I propose.
Listen. I'll call him,
and I'll imply
that you're waiting at the bar,
calm, relaxed.
- A responsible man!
- Which room?
Top floor. The two windows, there.
Got it.
I want all the exposures, everything.
I'm going to beat the shit out of them!
What room number?
408-409.
I'm going to kill them!
- Simon!
- Bitch!
Simon, please,
what are you going to do?
I'll be ready in five minutes.
Jesus Christ!
Quick, call a doctor!
Police! Call the police!
Martine?
Huh?
Are you all right?
Are you in pain?
Do you want anything?
Do you want a drink?
Where is he?
What?
Igor...
Where is he?
He's nowhere.
He's dead.
He hit the bucket, old Igor.
Four shots, point blank.
There's not much left of him,
nothing but a little pile of manure,
with a nice pair of balls
right in the middle
that he never even got to make use of.
I know... I did my research.
If you want them, let me know.
What's going on, Simon?
Nothing!
The question box is closed. All full up.
No more questions,
no more answers, nothing.
Hey, Blount...
I might have some info on the whore
you're after.
Beat it, Marcel.
What are you waiting for?
You going to follow me around all night?
I told you I wanted to be alone!
Alone.
I don't feel like talking.
Leave me alone.
Martine came back.
Right?
She came back?
Yes, she came back.
Now beat it.
Give me some air!
...waiting...
What happened isn't important, Simon.
What matters is what we tell ourselves.
What's in our heads.
You should tell it differently.
I think she was happy to see you.
She was overwhelmed,
so she didn't say anything.
When you're overwhelmed, you don't talk.
That's how it happened?
Right, Simon?
And then she cried, and she kissed you...
Right?
Right. That's what happened.
Then she said she was sorry
and loved only you.
Did she say that?
Yes.
And you forgave her.
You did the right thing.
What's wrong, Georges-Albert?
This is really top shelf, Simon.
We're mixed up in a murder, for starters.
Last night, I'll have you know,
I came back via the roofs.
Everything was blocked, cop cars,
so now we're not going out!
All right. The photos!
Yes.
There's your photos.
And here's your bill.
5,872 francs TTC, including tax,
and here's what I'll do with it.
You owe me nothing, I owe you nothing,
we don't know each other!
Hey!
These photos are crap!
Sorry, I was shaking,
but it's not every day
you photograph a murderer.
I need to see you...
Later. I don't have time right now.
COMMISONNER'S OFFICE
I spoke to the press,
and your name won't be mentioned.
But I am going to ask you
to be reasonable.
What's that mean?
Ask to be transferred.
I'll support it.
It's just a suggestion, of course, but...
I know how it'll go.
Your life will be hell.
In the meantime,
stay off the Malévitch investigation.
Is that a suggestion, too?
Don't complicate matters.
Please.
I understand.
Goodnight, sir.
Simon!
I always wanted to say
that I'm very sorry
about everything you're going through.
I hope it'll work out.
That's all.
Detective Blount. Are you new here?
Yes.
- Already bribable?
- Oh, yes.
Say a number from 1 to 100.
Uh... 500.
I want a name.
October 23rd, 7:15.
I, the undersigned, Paul Morgane,
coroner, having examined
the body of a 52-year-old man.
Inspection.
The rigidity of the body puts
the time of death around 24 hours earlier.
Lips are not cyanotic.
Slanting marks on the back
indicate that the body
was not moved post-mortem.
Did you get the record?
- Yeah.
- So, read.
- Huh?
- Read!
So: Igor Malévitch, 52,
was arrested for procuring in '69,
owned several brothels.
His specialty was highway sites.
Charged several times, always acquitted.
In 1980,
he buys the Lennox, the Mykonos,
and good conduct.
Christ! A cop's wife
with a pimp! Isn't that something?
I'll have to start telling my life story
another way!
Thank you!
What's this?
You wear red nail polish, now?
It was Godfather.
How's work?
We got a 15/20 in Dictation,
17 in Geography,
and we haven't given up hope
of being first in Math.
I'm doing a show at school. Want to see?
Of course I do!
Attention, ladies and gentlemen,
the Blount Circus presents
an extraordinary number
starring Balthazar and Trompette.
Yeah! Bravo!
That's great!
Hey, geniuses!
- Hey, shithead.
- Hey, shithead.
Hey, Blount, congratulations.
Must be nice to have found your wife,
right?
Especially since she was well-stocked,
I hear!
You're right, Malpeche.
The cuckold cop, you find that funny?
Here!
Oh, shit!
- What an idiot!
- Oh, that's good.
When he's recovered, you should try.
Say.
- Yeah?
- We might have a lead.
We found a package with a rat
in the hotel trashcans.
Who's running the case?
- Shithead.
- Oh, good. Good.
What about the bank robbery?
We've stalled there.
I've got 20 hours of video.
My eyes are killing me.
And I'm switching to the Canovas case.
If you're interested, the tapes are here.
Dad?
Yes, honey?
I wrote a poem for Mom.
You wrote a poem for Mom?
That's good.
Can I take Balthazar to the hospital?
No, you can't take dogs to the hospital,
it's not allowed.
That's not cool.
I know, but... That's how it is.
Want me to read it to you?
Yeah, go ahead. I'm listening.
- Mrs. Menange?
- Excuse me?
Are you not Mrs. Menange?
No, not at all, why?
Oh... Nothing.
Do you want a ticket?
Yeah, give me a ticket.
AFRICAN ART
Evening, Simon.
Evening, Violetta.
I'm beat. The entire Charles Fontans
donation to go through.
We kept putting it off till the next day,
and that was today.
Your cartography colleagues didn't help?
Simon, it's a completely different job!
Is it because I'm a cop that you
haven't introduced me to your folks?
Huh? Just tell them I'm an architect.
Don't be silly, Simon.
Do you really want to meet them?
Yeah, I think I'd like it.
- Really?
- Yeah.
Then come for dinner tomorrow.
Why not? Should I bring something?
No, we'll have everything.
Goodnight, Simon.
Goodnight.
Here you go.
That's what the machine found.
Gabriel Spielmaker.
Auto theft, breaking into a store...
This is a small-time stuff.
Hey, Blount,
I hear you're on a winning streak!
If you want to bet
on the France-Italy game, let me know!
Gabriel Spielmaker,
came here October 1970. He was five.
The psychologist's reports
weren't very good.
Anxiety, developmentally delayed,
very difficult personality.
He never made it more than a week
with foster families.
No family?
Nothing. He was abandoned at birth.
Social services gave him to us. Hang on!
Here.
School year '75'-'76.
This was the end-of-the-year festival.
He's on the right page.
- Recognize him?
- Yes.
Who's the girl beside him?
Do you remember her?
Violetta.
They were inseparable.
If someone scolded Violetta,
Gabriel would get upset.
If Gabriel fell, Violetta would cry.
It's always the same thing with kids.
There's the bright ones and the dull ones.
Violetta was always so vivacious,
always had a story to tell.
One day, she got it into Gabriel's head
that he was immortal.
We had to call the fire department
to get him down from the chapel roof.
- What's Violetta's last name?
- Reverdy.
Violetta Reverdy.
With a "y," like the poet.
Do you know her, Mr. Blount?
Oh, vaguely...
Tell me:
Violetta doesn't have problems
with the police, does she?
- No, not at all.
- Good. I was worried.
You know, I always thought
she could do something brilliant.
Really? Like what?
In my day, she'd have been an explorer,
or a test pilot.
But what would it be today?
A bank robbery, for example.
- Pardon?
- Nothing.
Reverdy is her father's name?
No, she never knew him.
It's her mother's name.
She was a prostitute.
And do you know where I can find her?
- Who, her mother?
- Yes.
She's dead. She died in 1972.
A car accident.
Violetta's an orphan?
This is an orphanage, Mr. Blount.
Mr. Blount!
I held on to this,
if you're interested.
Prostitute's body found on the highway.
July 10th, 1969.
The occupants of the car
that fatally wounded the young prostitute
Suzanne Reverdy have been identified.
They are Roberto Canovas
and Igor Malévitch,
two pimps known to the police.
Canovas and Malévitch...
The two men testified Thursday afternoon
before Judge Patay.
You're late. What happened?
I thought you'd forgotten.
Forgotten what?
Dinner with my parents.
No, I didn't forget.
My father, my mother.
Simon Blount.
Nice to meet you, sir.
Nice to meet you, sir.
So, you're an architect?
That's right.
Please.
I hope you like lamb?
Oh...
- What time is it?
- Half past.
Excuse me, I have to check on the oven.
She's a little tense,
it's not every day we have company over.
Can I get you something? Scotch, vodka?
Two fingers of whisky
with a little sparkling water.
Great!
I forgot to tell you.
It's Dad's birthday.
- Ah!
- Here!
What is it?
A lighter, so you won't be empty-handed.
- Okay.
- I'm going to help Mom.
The frog says, "You're insane.
We know you've been stealing..."
The mother showed me photos of the kids.
The cousin told me about the first time
he flirted with Violetta.
I went over Tanganyika,
but with the father, this time.
That's Africa!
That's a good one!
Well, I'll go get the cake.
Let me help you.
Be right back.
What are you working on right now,
Mr. Blount?
I have to confess something, ma'am.
I'm not really an architect.
Ah? But my daughter said...
Yeah, that was a bit of a joke.
So, what do you do, Mr. Blount?
Guess.
- You're a businessman?
- No.
A public servant?
Warmer.
I'll give you a hint.
So... It's tricolor,
and it's reassuring to honest folk.
A flag?
No, I said "reassuring."
- I don't get it.
- No?
Detective Blount, criminal affairs.
Oh, no! Let me explain.
She came and found us at the theater.
She offered us money.
We're actors, Detective.
We thought it was all just a prank,
a friendly joke.
I'll tell the others that we're leaving.
No, let's keep it up.
What do we do?
Whatever was planned.
I'm sure you'll be a hit.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, dear Dad
Happy birthday to you!
- Thank you! Great job.
- Our pleasure, Mr. Blount.
I hope you weren't bored.
Not for one second.
I wanted to tell you that tonight...
I was completely happy.
Goodnight.
See you tomorrow!
See you tomorrow.
Gabriel?
Gabriel?
Gabriel?
Gabriel?
Gabriel!
Why did you leave me all alone?
I don't want to stay here alone.
I'm here now. Calm down.
My head hurts.
I'm here.
I heard noises all day.
I waited for you.
My head hurts.
I'm here!
Did you take your medicine?
No, I was waiting for you.
Don't leave me alone anymore.
- Promise?
- I promise.
The two angels that the prophet
saw on either side of God's throne
each had six wings.
With two of them,
they were covering their feet,
which symbolizes blindness and abnegation.
With two other wings,
they were covering their faces
to signify shadows and understanding.
Are you asleep?
Finally, with the other two wings,
they were flying,
which symbolizes the flight of hope
and the passage into the night of meaning.
It's time to sleep. Okay? Will you sleep?
Good evening, Simon.
Evening.
What did you do today?
Nothing important.
I have something for you.
- What is it?
- A present.
Can't you wait a little?
For what, the next collection?
I think I like you more
when you're a wreck.
Sobriety isn't good for you.
What are you looking for?
The name of the next victim.
Ah. I see.
Who is it, then?
Who is it?
Can't you respond?
I'm sick of never being told anything!
Simon!
Come, he said.
Let me show you the sentencing
of the great prostitute,
Babylon the great,
the mother of a prostitute
and of all the earth's wickedness.
I saw her drunk on the blood of the saints
and the blood of the martyrs of Jesus.
The rest, I will sing to you
in the hollow of your dead ear.
Has your wife started rehab?
- Yes.
- How's it going?
- Good.
- Great.
I wanted to talk to you
about your transfer...
I have a friend from university
out in Bordeaux.
Henri Alard is his name.
If you're interested, I could call him.
It'd be no problem.
Talk to your wife about it,
and then let me know.
That's nice of you. I'll think it over.
There's no rush, of course,
but yeah, think about it.
Bordeaux is a beautiful city.
That's what I hear.
Oh, I forgot to give you your mail.
I picked it up for you.
Thank you.
Do you need something?
Uh... Aren't you going to open it?
No, uh...
Do you know Suzanne Reverdy?
No.
Why, should I?
Can you be more precise?
A prostitute, murdered in 1972
by her pimps, Malévitch and Canovas.
You were in charge of the case.
That's possible.
No, I'm sure of it.
Tell me, Simon...
What are you insinuating?
That I didn't do my job?
That I lied?
That I covered up for criminals?
That's very serious.
And it's preposterous.
If it's preposterous,
then why not open it?
Because I know what's inside?
One per day for the past two weeks.
Three hours of daily curses...
You get tired of it.
Now, detective,
I need you to tell me what happened.
Your story is rather unremarkable.
The mother's a whore,
she dies in a murky scenario,
there's a vague rumor of a scandal,
two crooks are accused,
and the case is closed for want of proof.
It's simple.
What's not so simple
is what the orphaned girl is thinking.
For her, the story must have meaning.
If her mother died,
there must be a guilty party.
Several would be even better.
And if the police closed the case,
then they must be in on it.
What do you want me to say?
If we don't find her soon,
someone else will.
And then we'll find her
in the port, her hands tied,
and a bullet in her head.
If you know where she is, bring her to me.
At least that way, she'll live.
This has to stop, Violetta.
Because... I can't do it anymore.
So here's what we're going to do.
I'll get you across the border,
and then we'll see.
But this has to stop!
I can't do it!
That's good.
I bought you chicken,
some spring rolls, and vodka.
Maybe that was a mistake.
- Do you like it?
- Yes.
Where are we going?
We're driving.
Is something wrong, Simon?
Where are we going?
We're driving.
Are you coming, honey?
Take me home, Simon.
I'm tired, and I have a headache!
You wouldn't believe
how much work I had at the museum!
I don't know what's going on!
I can't understand a thing!
I want to go home!
That's enough!
There is no more home, Violetta.
No more parents.
No more Africa. Nothing.
This has to stop. You hear me?
I can't take it.
I'm tired.
I can't spend my time following you around
and waiting for it to happen again.
I can't.
And...
I don't want to lose you.
Understand?
Violetta!
Stop!
Stop!
If you love me, please... Shoot.
Murder or accident?
An article by JE Strauss.
The innocent parties
thank their lawyer, Mr. Broz.
He's earned it.
My God!
Mr. Strauss,
you did write these articles, did you not?
- Yes.
- Ah.
Then who killed Suzanne Reverdy?
Canovas and Malévitch.
Thanks, but I already know that.
Let me ask the question another way.
Whose interest was it in that she die?
Why did he do it?
He was Suzanne's lover.
He's the kid's father.
Blount?
It's me.
It's Florimont.
Simon?
Are you there?
Simon?
I came alone.
Like you asked.
Why didn't you say anything?
Is the girl here?
Yes. She's here.
Well...
We should hurry. My car's downstairs.
Not so fast!
You have time to blow out your candles.
Eat a piece of cake...
Maybe you even have time to drink
a glass of champagne.
Yeah, I made noise with my mouth, because...
This is all so old.
Have a seat.
The girl isn't here, is she?
Sit down.
Oh, it's strange.
The more I look at you,
the more I see how much she resembles you.
Physically, of course, because otherwise...
What do you want?
A confession.
Confess what?
The truth.
The naked truth.
I'll help you out.
It's the story of a young, ambitious cop.
Nice marriage, promising future,
and then one day,
bang.
The blunder.
The blunder is Suzanne Reverdy.
She's young, 25 years old,
and pretty sexy.
Still not coming back to you?
Go on.
What was I saying?
Did I mention the child?
No, no, I didn't.
One day, the whore gets pregnant
with a little girl.
Her name will be Violetta.
Pretty, isn't it?
Obviously, she wants him
to acknowledge her as his daughter.
But he can't, because the nice marriage,
career, etc.
So she insists.
She's even a bit crude about it.
She comes and stands below his window
with the baby and shouts.
Crude, you know.
Right?
So what does this young, ambitious cop do?
Well, he organizes a little rodeo
with two young thugs to scare Suzanne.
And she was never scared again.
Can I get up? Are you done?
No, no, not quite.
I'd like to say something else.
Until today, I really admired you.
At some point,
I even tried to be like you.
A long time ago.
So now, I'm having some trouble...
Picturing you with a shitty future.
I've turned all the options over
in my mind.
I think this is the only
appropriate way out.
Well, it's what I would do, anyway.
Goodnight.
Simon?
Sir?
You're right, of course.
You're right about everything.
The only problem
is that you have no proof.
You know why?
Because I've got it all sewn up, Simon.
It's all been erased.
You know me: I'm a perfectionist!
So, now you're going to give me the girl.
There! That's a confession.
Now, lights!
I hope I pressed the right button.
And we're off...
Detective, if you want to bet a few bucks,
now's your last chance.
I didn't find any Reverdy
in the hooker files,
not a Suzanne, anyway.
There's a... There's one,
but her name is Violetta.
She works for Cindy Ballouche.
Who is it?
- Cindy Ballouche?
- Yeah, why?
Where is Violetta Reverdy?
I don't know her.
Okay, I'm getting married.
- You have ten seconds.
- You're right.
You've got ten seconds to beat it!
On your knees! Don't move!
Let's go!
Where is Violetta Reverdy?
- She's covering for me!
- Where?
At Broz, the lawyer! You're hurting me!
Let me go, you bastard!
Broz was the lawyer
who defended her mother's killers.
He was the last on her list.
Yeah?
Come here.
Come here.
- How old are you?
- Twenty-one.
Did Cindy find you?
Did she tell you what I like?
Yes, sir.
Don't call me sir.
Is this your first time doing this?
Yes, sir.
The bathroom's over there. Go wash up.
Hold me tight...
What are you doing here?
I already have someone.
I know, but he wanted two.
Bullseye.
Stay there. Don't move.
Suck me off.
Killer!
No, Simon!
No!
Take care of her. I'll take care of them.
Gabriel!
That night, we crossed the border.
When the sun came up,
she was asleep in the back seat,
sleeping like a baby.
She didn't wake up when I carried her
to the hotel room.
It was probably for the best.
What are you thinking about?
About you, darling.
Subtitle translation by: Adam Lozier