Baantjer het begin (2019) - full transcript

…Queen Beatrix reached the deck of the

ship with her mother Juliana, and from…

…tonight on Vijzelstraat and Leidsestraat,

with Leidseplein and Koningsplein

on either side.

There has been as much damage

as was paid for the festivities.

…pure vandalism.

"Horrible, awful

and an unbelievable shame,"

were the socialist politician's words.

He felt these actions

were an attempt to cause mayhem.

There have also been reactions

to unrest elsewhere in the country.

NOS management believes the reports

on the event have been responsible.

We will conclude

with the weather until tomorrow evening.

- Yeah?

- Good afternoon.

The owner of this building kindly

requests you to vacate the premises.

Oh yeah?

Where's the owner then?

What he does with his house

is none of our business. So…

Listen, idiot.

If the owner wants us to leave,

he can come here and tell us himself.

No.

The rest of the royal family

boarded the S.S. Beatrix…

7 DAYS UNTIL THE CORONATION

…to watch the fireworks.

At the same time fighting and looting

took place in Amsterdam's city center

as a result of the violent turmoil

earlier this afternoon.

In backroom talks it was decided…

The guy in two is barfing the whole day.

I've had it. Somebody take care of him.

George, put Shayla in five,

and release the Chinaman in four.

This fucking mess is driving me crazy,

people. A tidy house is a tidy mind.

- Talk to me, honey.

- Good day. I have an appointment.

Jurriaan DeKok.

Keep your fucking hands to yourself.

- It's K-O-K.

- Congratulations. With capital letters?

For a tenner you can blow me.

- Freek.

- Virginia.

Virginia, sit down

or I'm going to call your mother.

He'll also do it for a fiver.

Who do you need?

Mr Montijn.

Tonnie Montijn.

The meeting was for half past nine.

- With Tonnie?

- That's right.

Around the corner.

- This way?

- He's at Lowietje.

Nice shoes.

The riots in the capital

lasted until the evening.

We're closed.

Hey idiot, you deaf?

No, I have an appointment

with a Mr Montijn.

Tscheu La Ling.

I just don't get it.

Fucking unbelievable.

Boy oh boy.

Tscheu La fucking Ling.

Why do we need this half ass Chinaman

when we got Vanenburg.

- Have they lost their minds?

- You know what Ajax should do?

- Well?

- Get Cruijff back.

In your dreams.

Soccer?

- You must be with the police.

- Uh, yes.

- Lowie. Get Sherlock some coffee.

- Oh no, thank you, I'm okay.

Did you just come from the gym?

I just wanted to say that I'm glad

to receive this opportunity.

- What opportunity?

- To work together.

- Work together?

- Correct.

I got a letter from the commissioner,

De Woerd.

A response to my application.

He said that I am to work with you.

Urk.

Yes. Born and raised.

Do you have cash on you?

No.

Lesson one:

Always have money on you around here.

- Well, I'll see you later then.

- Sorry?

Half past nine, right?

Half past nine in the evening, mate.

Night shift.

You done, honey?

- You were terrific.

- Bye, darling.

- Well, what can I do for you?

- I'm just waiting.

What for? The tram? The only line

that runs around here is line 69.

- Hey, early bird.

- Tonnie, you owe me a tenner.

Get rid of your crotch crickets yet,

Rebecca?

Screw you, limp dick.

Fuck off, asshole.

Leave that at home.

For your own safety.

This week two cops

have been sent to the hospital.

And if you're with me,

everyone will know who you are.

Hey Richard, take it easy.

I know where to find you.

The lingo is different too. Lesson two:

A fiver is different than the Five-O.

And a buck is different than a fuck.

You'll get the hang of it.

- Hey, doll.

- Hot stuff.

- By the way, do you have a house?

- Yes, I found a place.

Great.

That seems to be a problem nowadays.

- Whereabouts?

- On Zeedijk.

Nice. If you want your mail

to smell like piss.

- Wife? Girlfriend? Kids?

- Uh, no.

- Boyfriend?

- No, nothing.

It doesn't matter to me.

Everything goes in Amsterdam.

I am single.

That'll save you a lot of trouble when

you get shot in the face. Here we are.

Nell?

Nellie?

Nell?

- Nellie?

- Hey, cutie.

Hey, Tonnie.

I'm looking for Ron.

You know where he is?

Who's Ron?

Really?

Are you serious? Have it your way.

Ron?

Ronny?

- Fuck off, man. I'm busy.

- Hi, Tonnie.

- Asshole.

- Sorry.

Ton, quit it. He's upstairs.

Now, was that so difficult?

Urk is new, and he's happily single.

For another one of these

you'll get a half hour with me.

What kind of tourist rates are those?

How long have we known each other?

- Block is my friend.

- It's DeKok.

Often misspelled as C-O-C-K.

Ronny?

Ronny?

Ron?

Ronny?

I've had it with this bullshit.

How am I supposed to get it up?

Urk, give me a hand.

Urk?

- Don't point your gun at me, man.

- Leave me alone, faggot.

Talk to me with some respect,

you filthy junk.

- I've already said, if he calls me…

- Shut up, Ron. I'm busy.

Not like this.

A drug-related crime, Urk.

Fished it right out of his pocket.

- You planted that there.

- Get up. On your knees. Sit down.

Keep an eye on David Bowie here,

will you.

Let's see what he brought along.

Look what I found here.

That's so generous. Thanks, buddy.

Those pills are for my heart.

- Maybe I should…

- Keep an eye on your suspect, detective.

Goddammit.

Hell of a first day, DeKok.

- Sorry. Sorry.

- Go away.

Thanks, asshole.

You got some speed, DeKok.

Lesson three:

Never chase trams, junkies or women.

There'll always be a next one. Hey, Ron.

What?

- Let's go. Give me the keys.

- What?

Come on, Urk, move it.

Go, go, go.

Let's go. Let precinct Rapenburg

pull it out of the canal.

- But I already had it called in.

- What?

Seriously?

- So, Tonnie. You pulled out a drunkard?

- And a squatter to boot.

That's going to be a week of paperwork.

- Why didn't you call precinct Rapenburg?

- That's what we would've done.

- I didn't know you…

- It's best if you stay away from me.

6 DAYS UNTIL THE CORONATION

Can someone tell me why our sweet

Lord and Savior hates my fucking guts?

I see you thinking:

"But, Chief, you're a man who has it all.

You have a pretty face,

you're a natural leader…"

- Humble.

- Yes, humble.

Thanks, Van Kemenade.

So why the long face?

Jesse Schippers. Thierry Lejeune.

Maxine de Waard.

We know who they are.

We know where they live.

And we know they've got something

planned on Coronation Day.

It's our job to make sure

it doesn't turn into a goddamn disaster.

However, I just received a call

from our wonderful mayor himself

saying we should keep our hands off

of them if we don't have any proof.

- Ridiculous.

- Something about the constitution.

- Oh, that old thing.

- So we're going to be busy this week.

- I have 35 full-timers in the hospital.

- Look, the canal cops.

And to make matters worse,

my star detective decided

that it was a good idea

to fish a drunk pisser from the canal.

Montijn, my office.

Glad someone here

is still doing the hard work.

District South called saying there's

a cat in a tree, maybe you can help?

Maybe you should go.

You haven't had pussy in while.

He's allergic.

No, he means pussy.

Good one.

Fingers off of my blinds, Tonnie.

Only I can touch my blinds. Got it?

Half my squad is in the hospital

and you pull a drunkard out of the canal.

- We have uniformed officers for that.

- Sorry, sir, it's my fault.

I thought "Vigilance while they rest"

was our motto. I didn't know…

- Tonnie?

- Chief.

Who is this?

Jurriaan DeKok, sir.

We spoke on the phone.

It's my first day.

Well, you're off to a great start, DeKok.

How long is your trial period?

We'll stop by the morgue, pull down

his fly, take a photo, and we're done.

I want a short report. Don't piss away

time with the coronation coming up.

Yes, Chief.

What were you doing there anyway?

Don't you have anything better to do?

We were making the rounds

when Jurre here saw him floating. Right?

- Uh, yeah.

- You have two days.

Understood, Chief.

- Sorry.

- Sorry for what?

Sorry I didn't know

we weren't supposed to…

If it gets me away from the coronation

for two days, I'm happy.

I almost forgot.

- Your cut from Ron.

- Oh no, that's alright.

- Sure? Have you seen your pay check?

- Yeah, it's fine. Really.

Ron would've used this

to buy smack, heroin.

You'll learn soon enough

that it's not all black and white.

I'm hungry. Let's go.

Or did you have other plans?

- Ma?

- Hey, Tonnie.

We're getting a bite to eat.

This is Jurre, my new partner.

- Hello, ma'am. Jurre DeKok.

- Nice to meet you. Louise Montijn.

Nice you finally brought someone along.

If it's not a good time…

No problem.

I'll peel some extra potatoes.

- Where's fatty?

- At school.

My daughter, Pien, goes to university.

Jurre's from Urk. They only have

an elementary school over there.

Nothing wrong with that.

I also only went to elementary school.

Oh no, I finished college.

He fished a corpse

out of the canal last night.

Christ's sake. I don't want

to hear about that before dinner.

- Hang up his jacket, will you.

- This will be the first and last time.

- Ma?

- That's Pien.

Good to see you, fatty.

- Have you been smoking again?

- No, my friends.

- I have friends, unlike you.

- Very funny. This is Jurre.

- Hi.

- Hi.

Jurre DeKok.

I see this was a mistake, Ma.

We're kicking him out after dinner.

- Here you go.

- Tonnie. Jacket.

- Want me to hang yours up too, fatty?

- Yes.

Cheers.

The tanks were followed by hundreds

of police and gendarmerie officers.

Some youngsters…

Can you please turn that off?

We have a guest.

Tanks. Unbelievable.

It's as if the goddamn krauts are back.

- But they are.

- I think Claus is a really nice man.

And he seems perfect for Beatrix.

At the university

they don't really like the royal family.

We don't like their money, which could

be used to solve the housing shortage.

You have a house. You live here.

- Please.

- Yeah, we do.

If that scum wants to live somewhere,

they should get a job.

- What job? There are no jobs.

- Jurre has a job. And he also has a house.

- This is lovely. Really lovely.

- Yes? Great.

They're a bunch of filthy freeloaders.

They're fucking lazy.

- You sound just like Dad.

- That's enough!

Jurre, would you like some coffee?

Oh no, let me help.

You see. That's what they learn in Urk.

Work.

Work.

Jurre has a very refreshing appearance.

- What?

- Nothing.

I saw you.

Good for you.

- In the squat.

- The squat?

Why would I be in a squat?

I have a home.

And you? Do you have a home

with its own kitchen?

Or do you eat with someone else

every evening?

I'm certain it was you.

Maybe in your dreams.

Listen, I understand you have sympathy

for the squatters and want to help them.

Their hard core isn't playing games.

Thank you for your concern, officer.

I'll take it into consideration.

Now you'll probably tell Tonnie

everything, right?

This one's still dirty.

5 DAYS UNTIL THE CORONATION

This guy drank a little more

than just canal water.

Anyway, forehead wound

inflicted by a blunt object.

Maybe a pole, or something

at the bottom of the canal.

- That was the cause of death?

- No. He drowned.

- Tumbled in while pissing?

- Well…

Don't say "well."

Why did you say "well"?

With the amount of alcohol

and heroin in his system

I doubt he could even stand upright,

let alone open his fly.

- Maybe he had help.

- My first guess, but I'm not sure,

is that his unconscious body

was dumped into the canal.

- So it's murder.

- The rookie is eager.

Listen, he fell asleep on the ledge

and rolled into the canal.

- Happens all the time.

- Yes, but then there's also this.

- You could've just started with this.

- Yeah, but I like to keep it exciting.

- Rat. Maybe he was an informant.

- Not one of mine in any case.

Since I like you guys so much,

there is also some good news.

His pockets were empty, of course,

but they forgot to check his boots.

Take a look at that. Thank you.

Here you go, DeKok.

Let's roll. I can't stand the stench here.

Later, babe.

Bye?

"John Doe drowned in his own

state of mind." How does that sound?

- Tonnie?

- Yeah?

Duivendrecht.

Number three is ours.

Just great.

Christ.

Lesson seven:

A search warrant is only needed

when someone sees you entering.

That's not the case now.

Can you shine the light over here?

Here you go.

- Jurre?

- Yeah?

- Do me a favor.

- Sure.

The next time you see a body

floating in the canal…

- I'll just leave him there.

- That would be great.

4 DAYS UNTIL THE CORONATION

We found a floor plan of the New Church

where the coronation will take place.

- Maybe it's fake.

- It's not.

- I don't mean the floor plan, but…

- Wait.

It's the same floor plan.

Upper House, Lower House,

the president of France,

the crown prince of England.

There are maybe a hundred people

who've been given a floor plan like this.

- A hundred and one, apparently.

- Show me that photo again.

- You sure you don't know him?

- No, Chief.

Goddammit. I told them to do the ceremony

at Soestdijk or in The Hague,

but no, no, no, it has to be here,

in our neck of the woods.

- What are we going to do?

- We have four days.

Take a forensic team with you.

If there's even one fingerprint pointing

towards one of the squatters in charge,

I can finally lock them all up.

Tonnie. Only the two of you.

Gentlemen, knock yourself out.

- You got to explain me one thing, DeKok.

- What?

Why here? Why the Red Light District?

I mean, you were the top of your class.

You're a good-looking guy.

Very righteous. Maybe a bit too much.

So why did you ask to work with me?

Oh, that.

I wanted a challenge.

I knew that this station was the most…

The biggest piss bucket

in the Netherlands.

- This is two kilometers of misery.

- Something like that.

And I…

I really want to make a change.

Oh God, you're one of those.

- You know what's come to my attention?

- Well?

Since you entered my life,

shit just keeps hitting the fan.

Just kidding.

Goddammit, it's a quarter past ten.

- What?

- We're drinking.

- Drinking?

- Yes, we're getting a drink.

- He'll take one too.

- He still needs to pay for the last one.

Don't be a dick. He's with me.

Just put it on my tab.

- Your tab?

- My tab.

You better have a good story, pal.

We found a floor plan of the New Church

with stuff even we know nothing about.

Who is this?

He's one of ours.

Mees from Groningen. Okay?

Nice to meet you. Jurre DeKok.

It must be linked to the coronation.

And we've found a body in the canal.

Most likely a squatter.

He had the word "rat"

carved into his abdomen.

- And?

- I don't know him. So he's not a squatter.

And I also don't think

he's an undercover cop.

Can you ask around

if they're missing anyone?

- Sounds like a fucking shit show to me.

- Pardon me?

I'm not asking around.

They're all paranoid.

If I do, I'll be lying there next to him.

I don't ask. I listen.

I'm not listening, I'm asking.

Come on, Mees. I need info.

Okay, listen.

There's a meeting tonight

at Fort Keizer with the hard core.

- Attend that meeting and we're set.

- No, I'm bartending.

If I change my routines now,

it's going to stand out.

- I can get someone in, though.

- Fine, I'll go.

No. Man, even my mother knows

who you are.

I'll take this shithead.

I don't know if this is a good idea.

It's best if you just get a drink

and stay at the bar.

Most of them will drink so much

they'll spill their guts anyway.

- And if they ask where I'm from?

- Then you're the first squatter of Urk.

- From Urk.

- Like this?

- Yes?

- Almost there.

- Shame on you.

- Why did you do that?

Now you really look like a squatter.

INOCCUPANCY

A TRAVESTY

You'll be all right.

- A beer.

- Coming up.

What are you looking at?

What the fuck are you looking at?

I'm…

I'm looking for a friend of mine.

Tall guy, mohawk, brown eyes.

How did you get in here?

Through the front door, idiot.

How about you?

Fucking wankers.

Is everyone having a good time?

Thank you. Good evening.

Also a warm welcome

to all the police who are here tonight.

Fuck you all.

And now some good news.

Our radio station, the megaphone

for all squatters, has a new DJ.

Hot of the press. She has a heart of gold,

an iron will, and an acid tongue.

The Pien Machine.

Hello, everyone.

Live from the Fort Keizer.

Squatnet Radio, 95.6 FM.

Can you hear me?

And at home, fellow comrades, who are

exploited and eaten away by the man.

People all over the world

who are done with the scum

who spit us and our friends out

onto the street: Can you hear me?

And how about you,

you dirty filthy capitalist?

You and all your friends, bankers

and politicians who think they're safe

from a small innocent girl like me

and the fucking bricks I carry with me.

Can you hear me?

I hope so, for your sake.

If not today, then tomorrow or the day

after. You shall certainly hear us roar.

- No habitation.

- No coronation.

It has come to my attention that you're

in the market for two kilos of uncut coke.

- Where's Marcel?

- That's right. Where's Marcel?

- I don't know a Marcel.

- Marcel the Belgian.

- We're supposed to do business with him.

- Oh, that Marcel. He's unable to attend.

Fucking bullshit.

Who let this fascist pig in?

Maybe your friend should shut it, Jesse.

- Shut the fuck up.

- Listen, I'm just here to do business.

You can't fight the riot police

doped up on heroin.

You have a war to win. And I happen

to have the magic potion to do just that.

- Do you want it or not?

- No, Jesse.

You won't get it from Marcel.

Finally, at least someone

is using their brains.

Do you think I'll stand out carrying

all that cash in public like that?

Maybe you should fetch me a bag.

Do we have a bag?

- Oh, hey.

- Don't "hey" me.

Did Tonnie send you?

- Pien. What the fuck is this?

- Nothing.

- Who's that?

- This is Jurre, a friend of mine.

- How'd you get inside?

- I let him in.

Do I need permission for that as well?

Can you leave us alone?

We were in the middle of something.

Leave me alone, okay?

We don't like your kind around here.

- Drugs?

- Coke.

3 DAYS UNTIL THE CORONATION

And how much coke

are we talking about?

- Two kilos.

- Two kilos?

And how did these squatters

get all that cash, Jurre?

- There's a lot of them.

- Look out the window.

This is Amsterdam.

Everyone's doing heroin.

The only coke here are a few packages

that come in by truck from Antwerp.

Maybe the Belgian police can help us.

- They spoke about a Belgian, Marcel.

- I think we have better things to do.

Jurre, feel free to contact the Belgians,

but do it fast.

Drugs are the least of our problems.

We have a coronation in three days

and an unidentified dead informant

with serious indications

there's going to be an attack.

Perhaps we should focus more on that.

- Why don't we arrest the squatters?

- Drugs are a daily problem in Amsterdam.

In three days someone might

blow up the New Church.

But I saw them with the coke.

Three more days. We'll go

on your drug hunt after that, okay?

Man, oh man.

- You missed a spot.

- Excuse me?

- It's still black.

- I must've washed my hair five times.

It's crap dye. Once it's fully dried,

it'll takes weeks to wash out.

- I think it suits him.

- He looks like a guinea pig.

He's right, though.

- Shame I didn't see it immediately.

- What?

The dye is partially washed away.

Wounds on the scalp.

The mohawk was made posthumously.

- Who's trying to mislead us?

- Oh yeah, and who the fuck is this then?

Marcel.

The Belgian.

I'm starting to like the new guy.

If he keeps this up, I think

he'll end up on your table soon.

Can you tell us who this is?

And? Is it true?

What?

That within an hour you can get

that photo anywhere in the world.

- Within a half an hour even.

- No way.

- I can't bring it to Antwerp that quickly.

- Antwerp. Never been there.

Me neither.

Hey, Colombo. Hey, honey.

- Explain it to me sometime.

- Sure.

Listen, lesson eight:

Don't dip your pen in company ink.

It never ends well. Trust me.

Say what you like about those squatters,

but they can take a beating.

Fucking annoying.

You're going to put

that shirt on expenses.

Baks. It's for you guys.

Baks speaking.

Thanks. Anonymous tip.

Baks.

Well, fuck me sideways.

- I really had to beat it out of them.

- Oh, I thought it was an anonymous tip.

- No, it was good detective work.

- What the hell are you doing?

- Just look at all that. Crazy.

- Fucking nut jobs.

- Hello?

- Mertens, Antwerp Police. Jurre DeKok?

- Speaking.

- I received your fax,

but it's just one big blur.

- You can't be serious.

- I can't make head or tail of it.

- Okay, we'll come over in person.

- Today?

- Yes.

- I'll see you.

Bye.

What a fucking long drive.

I hate Belgium, you know that?

- You hate everything outside Amsterdam.

- Me? Not true.

Anything beyond Marnixkade

feels like a day trip for me.

- What's Pien studying anyway?

- Who, my Pien?

- Yes.

- No idea.

Politics or something. Why?

No reason.

Jurre, Pien's not for you. Understood?

I know. Of course.

I didn't mean it like that.

I was just curious.

Be curious about some other girl,

but not Pien.

We need to find you a chick,

that's what it is.

- No, I've had enough of women lately.

- Really?

Then we definitely

need to find you a chick.

Nice one.

Corneel? The Dutchies.

- Tonnie Montijn.

- Corneel Mertens.

- Jurre DeKok.

- Ah, yes. Well…

Sorry we had to meet here.

Probably the handy work of Flanders'

biggest criminal, Seppe Brunae.

Absolutely ruthless.

A total lack of respect or morals.

Cocaine.

Be warned. It's coming your way, too.

Anyway, the reason we're here is this.

Maybe imagine him without the mohawk.

I don't need to. That is Marcel Pittoors.

Married to Seppe Brunae's niece.

And where can we find her?

Good night.

Evening.

Good evening.

Two jars, please.

Two what?

Two beers.

- They says "pints" here.

- Pints… Fuck off.

I prefer Café Lowietje, right?

Thank you kindly.

Excuse me.

We're looking for Marcel Pittoors.

Don't know him.

We understood he was a friend of yours.

I don't know any Marcel.

And we're about to close.

That's 40 francs, please.

- Sorry?

- Can't we finish our…

I'm not asking again.

Why are we leaving?

How do you think it went?

Marcel is dead.

What?

They found his body in a canal,

all blue and bloated.

- He's lying.

- Unfortunately not.

He'd been in the water for a week

so the rats got to him, too.

Right, DeKok?

His dick was hanging by a tiny thread.

Fortunately you didn't know him.

Is this really necessary?

- Let's go inside.

- Sometimes you have to push a little.

He was sent ahead to Amsterdam.

Normally he would sell

half a kilo a week,

but Seppe wanted to find a new buyer.

For two kilos.

- And then another 50.

- 50 kilos?

- To whom?

- Those squatters.

Do you have any names for us?

- I'm really sorry. Thanks anyway.

- Wait a moment.

Who was the previous buyer?

Bob.

- Bob who?

- Bob… I don't know. Oh, Seppe.

Good evening.

- Good evening.

- And who are the pretty ladies?

- None of your fucking business.

- Ay.

I only hope you weren't sent here

by Bob Donkers.

And what if we were?

What if we were?

Wow.

You're a long way from home, aren't you?

Kitty, my guys are thirsty.

Let's go.

- Who were those guys?

- Marcel is dead.

- Come again?

- Marcel is dead.

Who's Bob Donkers?

What is it you want to hear?

What is it you want to hear, Jurre?

That you were right about Marcel

and the drugs? Well done, well done.

You did a great job, alright?

Now we know who the guy is.

Our two days are up. Done. Finished.

- Then what do you suggest?

- I suggest we warn the chief.

Okay.

Who is Bob Donkers?

2 DAYS UNTIL THE CORONATION

Hi, Barrie.

Still paying off your debts?

Old habits, you know?

- I need new shoes.

- Sure, for your new boyfriend?

No, for your mother. Alright?

Barrie, don't be a dick.

Let the boys in.

Heavy security. For a shoe store.

Hello.

He needs to live up to his name,

Barrie Kade.

- Take a seat, madam.

- Thank you.

I don't know you.

I'm Bob Donkers, nice to meet you.

Jurre DeKok.

Support soles

for the friendly neighborhood cop?

Funny.

- What do you think, Mrs Van Dijk?

- I think they're quite handsome.

I couldn't agree more.

Put your foot up here.

Lift it up a little bit.

Well…

Go ahead.

We're here to ask some questions

about Marcel Pittoors.

Did you hear that Fat Nelis died?

The guy with no teeth? That's rough.

He was a moonlighter on Kinkerstraat.

Toothless Fat Nelis.

- Ton and I grew up together.

- Do you have to tell this story?

It's a good story. I used to fuck around

with my mates on Kinkerstraat.

Nasty little fuckers, we were.

Not Ton, though.

Ton's dad used to smack him about

and he wanted to join the police.

Right, Ton?

But anyway, Fat Nelis approaches us

and he says to us:

"What?" He had no teeth,

so I couldn't understand him.

He says: "I'll pay you 12 grand

if you kill my wife."

But what does this fucking idiot do?

He gives us the money up front.

All of it. In one go.

Now, you guess what we did next.

- You kept the money.

- No, of course not!

What kind of cop are you?

We called the police.

Who is Marcel Pittoors?

We found him dead in a canal last week.

He was on his way here

to deliver two kilos of coke.

Put your foot on here, madam.

Okay, well…

Ask your question.

We want to know if the Belgians

tried to cut you out.

It's Jurre, right?

Yes.

I'm sorry, Jurre, I have absolutely

no idea what you're talking about.

I'm an orthopedist.

I own a few buildings.

Which is tough nowadays because

you guys can't control the squatters.

But, hey, who am I to tell you

how to do your job?

I'm sure you have the situation

under control. Right, Ton?

- Absolutely, Bob.

- Yeah.

The other foot please, Mrs Van Dijk.

That's right, very good.

Come on. Let's go.

- What happened to the woman?

- Fat Nelis' old lady?

Yes.

They found her in the bathtub,

cut to pieces.

Let's go, we're done here.

Could you stand up for a moment?

Yes, I'm not quite sure.

- Sorry, guys. Hey, Barrie.

- Hey, sport.

Hey, where were you? You can't

keep the chief waiting like that.

Calm down, darling.

Look, unbelievable.

Boys, come in. Sit down.

So, Tonnie. The squatter in the canal.

Any progress?

Unfortunately not, Chief. We don't know

jack about the New Church, either.

- We hit a dead end in Belgium, too.

- Excuse me, Chief.

I think we found

some major leads in Belgium.

Plus, we just spoke to Bob Donkers.

And I strongly feel we're being misled.

- I would…

- Sure, but I need to prioritize things.

Is Belgium a threat to the coronation?

No. Belgium is all about drugs.

That Semtex that was found in the squat

clearly indicates that there are plans

to blow up our royal family.

I spoke to the mayor.

He's very sensitive about Amsterdam's

reputation as a tolerant city.

Where everyone has a right

to demonstrate.

But if you think

the coronation is in danger,

then we can talk

about additional, temporary…

measures.

- Do we have a problem, Jurre?

- What are you doing?

Me? Listen, I know it's all new

and exciting in the big city for you,

but the coronation is in two days.

Do you have any idea what's going down?

- No.

- That's what I mean.

It's not our job. This shit is above us.

Above our pay grades.

- "Vigilance while they rest."

- Let it go, will you?

- Are you even paying attention?

- What do you mean?

Let's get one thing straight. If all hell

breaks loose with those squatters,

I rely on you to have my back.

Children, can I have your attention?

The mayor has given us a green light

to handle things a little differently.

It's time to tighten the thumb screws.

So if one out of every four squatters

accidentally walks into a baton,

you won't hear any complaints from me.

We will surely get in trouble for that,

but that will be after the coronation.

The plan is to raid all the smaller squats

simultaneously today.

And early tomorrow morning

we will storm the squatters' HQ,

culminating in a raid on Fort Keizer.

Thank you.

Montijn speaking.

It's Jurre.

Oh, hi, Jurre. How nice.

But Tonnie's not in.

I'm not calling for Tonnie,

I'm calling for Pien.

- Pien?

- Yes.

She's at the university. No wait, she said

she was going to sleep over somewhere.

- What's wrong?

- No, it's nothing. Bye.

Oh, okay. Bye.

- Pien. Where's Pien?

- Over there.

Hold this.

- I need bandages!

- Pien.

- What the fuck are you doing here?

- I've come to warn you.

- They'll kill you if they see you.

- You have to get out.

Pien.

Go home.

- What happened?

- The police are going nuts.

Thierry! He's not responding.

- Fuck!

- He's bleeding too heavily.

Move aside!

- He's losing too much blood.

- Has anyone got any coins?

He's not responding. Thierry!

- Coins.

- Jesse.

- Coins.

- Yes, here.

Hold his chin up. At right-angles.

- Thierry!

- Mouth-to-mouth.

Pinch his nose.

Okay, out of the way, move!

Do it again.

I can't feel a thing. No pulse, nothing.

Call an ambulance! Move!

Get off him. Breathe.

Keep his mouth open. Head straight.

Amsterdam is preparing for

Queen Beatrix's inauguration ceremony.

The first guests arrived yesterday.

Today, the royal guests will arrive.

Prince Charles, the British crown prince

and most important guest arrived…

Jesse?

- Is Thierry okay?

- Thierry is alive.

- And you?

- Me too.

- What the fuck is that pig doing here?

- He saved Thierry's life.

- I don't give a shit. Fuck off, you pig.

- Calm down.

Knock it off.

Right now there are riots

between protesters and the police.

- You need to get out of here.

- No, I'm not leaving.

It'll only get worse. Tomorrow, there

will be 1,000 riot police on the doorstep.

And what about these people

and the children?

- I don't know.

- Where will they all live?

I don't know.

Somewhere where there are homes.

Outside the city?

Tucked away in the Bijlmer somewhere?

- Is the city only for the rich?

- No. Well…

No.

If all these people decided

to move to Urk tomorrow,

and the rent goes up by 500 per cent,

overnight,

- will you all leave?

- I understand it's hard.

But I just don't believe

violence is the solution.

Tell your boss that. You were saying

something about 1,000 riot police.

The police are only trying

to keep it livable.

- Livable? Don't you have eyes?

- Don't you?

Why are you being so difficult?

I'm just trying to help.

I know.

Honestly, Jurre.

Thank you.

Is there anyone more noble

in this world than you?

- Is that how you want to play it?

- Yes, or else?

You're off again?

Fine. I'll see you

and your 1,000 friends tomorrow.

Where did you learn that?

What?

How to do CPR.

At sea.

And now the Red Light District?

I wanted to work somewhere

where I could really help people.

Oh, Lord. You're one of those.

- Your brother said exactly the same.

- Tonnie is a relic.

He still thinks this is the sixties

and they're all petty criminals.

If my mother hadn't made him go to school,

he'd have ended up just like his friends.

What friends?

People like Buffoon,

Shoeshine Bob, Steel Jan.

Bob Donkers?

Were they friends?

Yes, very close.

They still are.

Please make sure

you're out of here on time tomorrow.

Fine, Jurre.

AMSTERDAM, 29 APRIL 1980

ONE DAY UNTIL THE CORONATION

Alright, the plan is clear.

The batons go in first, then you.

We arrest all of them,

but we want those three in particular.

This is the police.

Please come outside

or we will resort to action.

No, no, no.

Pien?

Hello?

No.

Stop.

Stop.

Let me through.

Let him through, leave him alone.

They've all left, there is nobody there.

They have all jumped ship.

- What?

- Somebody ratted. There's no one inside.

Oh, my God.

- How the fuck did they know?

- They left last night. I don't know.

- Where were you?

- Nice timing, Jurre.

- We waited for you.

- Is there something I should know?

Shut the fuck up, all of you.

- Repeat. Over.

- Back-up needed on Rapenburg.

To Rapenburg. Move it.

Oh, fuck off.

How did you get that blood

on your shirt?

Bob is quite something.

I didn't know you were such good friends.

Don't get in the way out there

or you might get hit with a nightstick.

Stand your ground.

Don't break formation.

Molotov.

Stay close together.

Maintain formation.

Keep walking.

There's still someone in the van.

- We have to.

- Let's go.

Move it!

There's somebody in here.

- Open it, goddammit.

- It's jammed.

The side door.

Here, man.

You okay?

You okay?

We have to get out.

We have to get out.

Can you hear me?

- Help me.

- Again.

Hold it open.

Pien.

I saw Pien. I saw my sister.

Quick, get out of here.

Hold this.

Pien!

Wait.

Come here.

This way.

Fucking traitor.

Pien! No!

No, stay with me. Ambulance!

Ambulance!

That's enough, sit down.

Go and argue somewhere else. Sit down.

- Listen to me.

- Jurre, please.

Tonnie.

- I have to…

- This is about my sister.

- Can you hold on to this for me?

- Sure.

Well, look who's here.

Every hand you lay on me

means a day less in jail for me.

- What was she doing there?

- Who are you talking about?

- You know exactly who I mean.

- Oh, Pien?

Our warrior in fishnet tights.

- She couldn't stay away.

- A dirty whore is who you are.

How is she?

- He's going to beat her to death.

- I hope he does.

Take it easy, cowboy.

Do you always treat the ladies

like this?

Does it give you a boner?

I'm sorry we had to hurt her a bit.

What did you say?

Oh, man.

You wouldn't accept it if one…

if one of my men was fucking your wife.

That kind of behavior

gets in the way of the cause.

No matter how well she conveyed

her idealism, she was fucking the enemy.

And that makes her a dirty kraut whore.

I was actually impressed…

by your tolerance.

- What's that?

- That you let him have his way with her.

- With your little sister.

- Sorry?

We could evacuate the Keizer squat on time

and leave you a beautiful surprise behind

because he had to follow his dick

and stick it into your sister.

- What did you say?

- Then again, with a name like that.

A name like that says it all, really.

Man, what is his name again?

What's his name again?

- Goddam…

- DeKok.

- Tonnie…

- Fuck off.

Thank you, Baks.

Chief.

I wanted to warn Pien, that's all.

And she immediately told her friends.

- I don't believe that.

- What you believe doesn't matter, DeKok.

Six of my men are hospitalized

thanks to your actions.

You've only been here a week.

I doubt you'll last another.

Chief, Tonnie and Bob Donkers

are childhood friends.

I'm convinced that Bob Donkers

had a Flemish drug dealer killed

and dumped as a squatter in a canal.

And the evidence for this is what?

There is no evidence.

- We found something in the Vondel Church.

- What?

- Three empty sniper rifle cases.

- Look, DeKok, hard evidence.

You're lucky I need everyone I can get.

You'll be providing security tomorrow

at the coronation.

Every police officer will be

within a 200-meter radius

to protect our new queen.

And if Bob Donkers or whoever

wants to sell a kilo of coke tomorrow,

we will deal with it

the day after tomorrow.

Is that clear, DeKok?

Unacceptable.

Mayor Polak said that a major police

intervention at the squat

can be avoided if the squatters

are prepared to negotiate.

But the chances of that are small.

HOSPITAL

AMSTERDAM, 30 APRIL 1980

CORONATION DAY

NO HABITATION

NO CORONATION

Practically all the prominent guests

are staying in the Amstel Hotel,

which is heavily guarded.

All these measures are in place to ensure

a smooth coronation on the Dam.

Before the visitors enter the church,

they'll pass through metal detectors

provided by Schiphol Airport.

Let's go to our reporter Hugo van Rijn

for an update on the current situation.

Fences have been placed

and the police are stopping all traffic.

Only cyclists and public transport…

Okay, today is the big day.

Thanks to Mr Hans Wiegel, I have

about 6,000 policemen at my disposal,

and probably the same number of squatters,

demonstrators and opportunists

who want to have their own party.

The threat to security remains serious.

It didn't have to come to this.

We don't want power.

We don't want money.

We don't want to be on TV.

Waiting in the Moses Hall are the

chairmen of the Upper and Lower House,

the representatives of the Dutch Antilles,

the cabinet,

the vice-president

of the Council of State,

the queen's commissioner and

the Amsterdam mayor. The princess…

Today, everyone's eyes are focused

on Dam Square and on nothing else.

No fuck-ups, no hesitating.

If you have to, you hit first

and then ask questions.

But I don't want to see

any firearms today.

I'm not going down in history

as the chief of police

who had a massacre on his hands.

Accommodation, safety, honesty.

And yes, we're prepared to die for it.

The outer ring is shut off to squatters,

demonstrators or any other scumbags.

- No habitation.

- No coronation.

I only want to see

people celebrating, today.

Okay, let's get to work.

- Post 1 to Post 11. How are you?

- Post 11, everything under control.

- Good. Stand by.

- Stand by.

At the moment,

the situation is fairly calm.

The number of wounded policemen is six.

Of the squatters it's unknown.

Jurre to Command, all quiet.

31 to Command, we've got trainloads

of demonstrators are heading your way.

God, Jesus.

What a fucking awful day.

- Shouldn't we draw the bridges?

- Good advice, not doing it.

A building is being squatted

on Kinkerstraat right now.

Unit A,

move from Nieuwmarkt to Kinkerstraat.

Switch to Kinkerstraat.

Okay, guys.

Everyone keep their eyes peeled.

Look to the left. Top window.

Activity.

Can we see what's happening?

What do you see?

I have no idea.

I've got my eyes on them.

It's a banner, a banner.

They're letting down a banner.

Can somebody please

get those rats out of there?

By eleven o'clock,

Dam Square is full of people

waiting for the abdicated

and the new queen

to appear on the palace balcony.

I introduce to you

Beatrix, your new queen.

Yes, they're inside.

It's all under control.

…as Princess Juliana.

All together we head into the future.

We're all set, Bob.

I strive for nothing else

but to be at your disposal

and that of the people,

and to serve the nation.

- I'll be right back.

- Long live the Netherlands.

- Wait. Command?

- Yes, come in.

Should Tonnie…

- Hello, Command?

- I can't hear you, Jurre.

Guys, this isn't happening, is it?

Hello, can somebody answer me?

Hello? Okay, I'm…

Jesus fucking Christ.

Come on, get on with it.

…where you first appeared

as Queen Juliana,

I now wish you

many more years

of happiness and satisfaction…

- Jurre for Command.

- …as Princess Juliana.

Command, Command.

Long live the Netherlands.

Hey, bike for sale.

- Did it all work out?

- I'm here, aren't I?

Bob, I'm not going in, I've done my bit.

You have uniforms and a get-away car.

Your bit? Your bit is done

once we've paid the Belgians.

Or did you think

we'd be doing the dirty work?

We're in this shit because your goons

can't control themselves. Okay?

And you were there, weren't you?

Or did I dream all that?

Emergency, ma'am. Call your boss

and gather everyone outside.

The police has declared

a state of emergency.

- Can I help you?

- An emergency due to the squatter riots.

- Everybody must leave the building.

- Linda, gather the staff.

Stand over here.

- The alarm is switched off.

- That's great.

We want to take a look in your safe.

Command?

Guys, I… Why don't I hear anything?

We don't have access to the safe.

- Has anyone done a first-aid course?

- Me.

- Fuck, goddammit.

- Can somebody open the safe now?

Jurre to Command.

- What the fuck are you doing?

- Ma'am, this way.

I'll go with you, come on.

- You fucking psychopath.

- You're on the lookout, half-ass crook.

Wait here, stand still.

Line up here and stand still.

Open it. Perfect, next.

Well done. Give me the keys.

Don't move!

Breathe in and out. You'll be fine.

You can call an ambulance once we're gone.

- Jurre.

- Where are they?

- I'm glad you're here.

- Where are they?

- Call an ambulance.

- Move away.

- This is not what it seems.

- I'm not stupid.

- I told you it's not all black and white.

- Move away.

What a first week you're having.

- Come on!

- Move, pigs.

Move it, faster! Get in there!

- This is bigger than you think.

- With you and Bob, yes.

I'm undercover.

I'm undercover. Help me, please.

- Bob is emptying out the safe.

- How's that?

Honestly, Jurre.

Grab his arm.

He passed out. Take him outside.

- Hold his arm.

- Yes, we must tie it off. His belt.

Sorry, buddy.

Come on.

- What's all this?

- Some loser trying to be a hero.

- Well, finish him.

- No.

Goddammit.

Get the fuck out of here.

AMSTERDAM, 1 MAY 1980

8 HOURS AFTER THE CORONATION

There he is.

Well…

I have 80 officers in hospital.

The riots are ongoing,

but the coronation went smoothly.

I suppose the leaders of the free world

are probably having their dessert.

- What are these for?

- That was quite impressive.

Right under our noses, very smart.

And we were very dumb.

I'd appreciate it if you were

to tell me exactly what happened.

We were on the lookout

when Tonnie suddenly left.

I followed him and he went into a bank

with some other guys.

I tried to stop him,

but he knocked me out.

Yes, well, Tonnie told me a very

different story. Didn't you, Tonnie?

He knows exactly what happened.

Don't you?

Do you know where the money is?

Tonnie just told me that you were

the one who suddenly took off

to play bank robbers with your mates.

Who are your mates?

Bob Donkers is one of them, isn't he?

- So Tonnie killed the bank manager then?

- Killed?

No, when I passed out,

nobody was dead.

He's in a coma, a severed artery.

A breath away from dying.

And the fact that you betrayed us to the

squatters doesn't help you much either.

But until I've figured it out,

you'll be guarded.

Who the hell are you really,

Jurre from Urk?

Chief?

Tonnie.

What is it?

Sorry.

Taxi.

Jordaan.

- Here you go.

- Thank you.

Make it 22.

Hang on, wait a second.

I think we're going for another drive.

Yes, stop here. Stop.

Seppe, it's good to see you.

Ton.

It's probably too much.

Well, how about you guys?

- What about us?

- The coke.

- There is no coke.

- Well, give it back then.

We've decided not to do business

with you anymore.

Take it easy, everybody.

Let's calm down.

What? Is this about Marcel?

Marcel was a junkie

and hence a risk to send on errands.

First of all,

I decide who runs my errands.

Secondly, Marcel may have been a junkie,

but he was my friend, and family.

And that, Bob,

brings us to our third point.

You don't touch my family.

How was I supposed to know

he was family?

Listen, we must be able

to solve this as gentlemen.

If we have to raise the price,

that's not a problem for me.

See?

We just need to talk to each other, Seppe.

All the squatters are locked up

so if you can't do business with me,

with who can you?

What's the world coming to

if even we don't have a moral code…

I'm sorry, but it was

such a boring conversation.

It's a bit impolite, but we'd still be

here in the morning. Right, Barrie?

And you don't mess with family.

I totally agree with that.

Five kilos a week for starters?

Fine. And Barrie here is all right.

But I'm not too sure about this retard.

I thought you were a cop.

- I am.

- Yes, he is.

And coincidentally, he's also

the last person to see Marcel alive.

It was his idea to dump Marcel

in the canal dressed up as a squatter.

Wasn't it?

Fucking asshole.

Say hello to Marcel.

Man, oh man.

Goddammit.

It's all fucked up.

Jurre?

It was all for nothing.

Hey, buddy.

You used me in everything.

You knew all along who Marcel was.

You were on top of everything.

It should never have come to this.

That business with the squatters and the

attack was all part of Bob's smoke screen.

- How long have you been working for Bob?

- I don't work for or with Bob.

For how long?

I work undercover

to roll up this entire fucking operation.

Yeah, we all know that story,

just like in the bank.

Keep that hand away from there.

Call an ambulance, I'm losing blood.

A lot of it.

- Are you giving up on me?

- I saw the whole thing. I'm not like you.

That's why I love you, buddy.

You're not like the rest of them.

You're real. I can just picture it.

Pien and you.

Don't fucking sweet talk me.

You're a beautiful person, Jurre DeKok.

And hey, lesson number 13.

- Stop.

- Lesson 13:

Unfortunately in our world,

who you hang out with…

is who you get contaminated by.

I'm sorry.

No, no.

- Jurre?

- No, no.

No. No, Tonnie.

They're on their way,

they're on their way.

What a mess.

That bank manager of yours,

he has come to. So…

Well done.

He said…

He said that he was working undercover.

That all the top brass knew about it.

That's not true, is it?

No.

Your firearm.

Your firearm.

I want a brief police report

and a statement.

Nothing complicated, okay?

I'll see you Monday morning.

Okay.

To Tonnie.

To Tonnie.

He fucking succeeded, after all.

- What?

- In the saddle.

I always used to say: They'll have to

push you into a grave when you're 120.

The fucking bastards.

Don't get me wrong,

Tonnie had his share of mistakes.

If you steal a rich man's watch,

that's one thing.

But you just don't shoot people.

I'll put it on a tab.

Always have money on you.

Lesson number one.