La dénonciation (1962) - full transcript
"We live in the oblivion
of our metamorphoses." P. Eluard
This story begins in Paris,
around 8 pm,
on October 26, 1961,
a day of general strike.
Newspaper headlines read
"Paris Slows Down"
and announced that the 1962 car
sticker would be turquoise.
Denunciation
Patrice?
Are you Patrice?
- What's going on?
- I don't know.
- There's someone in here.
- I think so.
No!
Careful!
Georges Yvain murdered
- Who is it?
- Your father.
- Shall I bring the phone?
- To the study.
- Here is your mail.
- Thanks, Lee.
Don't worry, he's fine.
He was hit, that's all.
He'd forgotten his sweater.
- His sweater?
- Yes.
He went to get a sweater
he had left there.
No, he doesn't know.
How could he?
Believe me,
he didn't kill him.
- Who?
- Malterer.
Malterer. Okay, I'll tell him.
First Warning:
If you talk, we'll kill you.
So, murderer...
The murderer is fine.
- What about the wound?
- I've a headache.
My dad called.
Imagine that.
I bet he summoned
the Council of Ministers.
Almost.
Poor dad.
Put yourself in his shoes.
- You're supposedly a leftist.
- Supposedly?
Lying next to the corpse
of activist Georges Yvain.
- So what?
- My father's a minister.
- What must he think?
- That he'll have trouble.
Well, the bar opens at 8 pm.
- I arrived at 8 pm.
- With a key?
No, Mr. Georges has the key.
He's the barman.
He arrives first.
It was already open.
You arrived late that day.
- No.
- Mercier.
Chief.
What did Mr. Georges
say about that?
Mr. Georges said he arrived
at 8 pm on the dot,
and that he tried to open
until 8.03 pm.
So you couldn't have arrived
before 1 second after 8.03 pm.
- That's possible.
- Go on.
I arrived and Georges said
he couldn't open the door.
We tried again,
we knocked.
It was strange.
Did you know
there was a bolt on the inside?
Yes, but nobody ever used it.
Right, you went
to the station next door,
returned with a policeman
and broke in.
Correct.
Why do you think
Mr. Georges waited so long
to break in?
We thought it was for the best.
So you thought something
strange was going on,
and that it was better
to go in with a witness.
Do you know this man?
Sir...
Chief Mauroy has already taken down
your statement.
Yes. I told him everything.
My collaborator, Mr. Mercier,
has that on record here.
Rather than rereading it now,
I'd like you to tell me
about this adventure now,
with a clear head.
Well, of course.
It all started with a sweater.
The night before, my wife
and I were there
with Hugo Pirelli
and his wife.
He's my partner.
I'm a film producer.
Yes, I know.
- You mentioned a sweater.
- Yes.
During the course
of the evening,
I started to feel hot
and went to the cloakroom
to take off my sweater.
When we left, I forgot it.
I realized when I got home,
and thought I'd pick it up
the next day.
So, the next day,
a little before 8 pm,
I left my office
near Play-Boy
and thought it might be open,
so I went there
to get my sweater.
It was closed,
but a sign said:
"The bar opens at 8 pm."
So I waited for a few minutes
and read the paper.
Around 8 pm... I can't
be more precise,
because my watch is a little fast...
I came back, and the door
opened without difficulty.
Please stop.
- Sorry.
- No, please...
The door was closed.
A minute later, it was open.
Yes.
There are 2 possibilities.
It was either unlocked
from the inside,
or someone went in
from the street...
or came out from inside.
I didn't see anyone
go in or out.
I was reading the paper.
That's a pity.
Please continue.
The room was dark.
At the back, a half-open door
let some light in.
I had left the entrance door
open behind me.
I think the wind
slammed it shut.
I took 2 steps forward...
and my feet bumped
into something soft.
It was a body on the floor.
I heard a slight noise.
The door before me opened.
I saw a woman there,
standing still.
I couldn't see her face,
the light was behind her.
Then a man arrived.
I couldn't see his face either.
They must have seen mine,
as I was facing the light.
They said something
and the man came towards me.
He was young, I think.
He was tall
and threatening.
He probably thought
I was someone else.
I thought I'd come across
something shady
and that it would be best
for me to run.
I ran towards the exit.
The door opened,
a man came in,
we got into a fight,
and I was hit
on the head with a stool,
as I learned later.
Everything went black.
When I regained consciousness,
there were a lot of people:
a doctor, a policeman...
My had a memory lapse
for about 10 minutes,
but it came back gradually.
I had just been scared...
and hit on the head.
Well, thank you.
One more thing.
Did you notice if that first man
was holding a weapon?
No.
But, when you first testified
you said this man was
holding a knife.
- Mercier?
- That's right, a knife.
Well, in that case,
I must have said it.
Sorry if I seem like a fake witness.
Don't worry.
The blow you received
may have caused you to forget
what preceded that moment.
This happens often
to knocked-out boxers.
Those memories sometimes
return, or not.
Don't worry if I tell you
there are discrepancies
between what you just told me
and what you told the Chief.
- Oh, really?
- Mercier.
In your first statement,
you said
that you had seen
Yvain's body right away.
Today you said:
"a body on the floor."
I said "Georges Yvain's body"
because I'd just been told
that it was him.
What I really saw then
was a body on the floor.
Nothing indicated
that he was dead.
But he had been dead
for about 20 minutes.
Mercier, I think
there's something more.
Yes, regarding the woman.
Today, you said
that the first man arrived
just after the woman.
Yesterday, you said
that she stood still
at the door for an instant,
and she said something.
I'm sure this man and woman
talked to each other.
That's all I really know.
Don't worry.
It would only be important
if they'd mentioned names
or if you had noticed
a particular accent.
One last thing.
Please look at these photos
and tell me if any of them
ring a bell.
The whole Play-Boy staff
is there,
including the artists.
We want to see if there was
an accomplice inside.
No, nothing.
What about him?
Not really. Who is he?
He's Eddy Soulinas,
Georges's bodyguard.
He's also related to the victim
and must have an alibi.
Have you received any threats
by phone or mail?
No.
Well, thank you
for your time, sir...
but I've one last thing
to ask of you.
I'm going to go
to Play-Boy tonight,
to feel the atmosphere
during the show.
- Would you mind joining me?
- Not at all.
And bring your wife...
I will ask her.
What time is the show?
Michel Jussieu thought what
was happening to him
didn't make any sense.
But he had a wound on his head
and couldn't sleep.
He didn't care
about Georges Yvain.
But that polite, smart officer
bothered him.
As he was going home,
he felt he was being...
Followed?
Yes, by a black car.
Aren't you imagining things?
Black cars are common.
- Taking the same route?
- Well, why not?
Don't start taking yourself
for a crime novel hero
being followed
by men in disguise.
I'm not,
I just had the impression
I was being followed.
- Does it hurt, Dad?
- Does what hurt?
- Your wound.
- Yes, it hurts a lot.
So, you were Mr. Yvain's bodyguard?
Not exactly.
This is not Chicago.
No, I was his secretary.
But you were in charge
of protecting him.
You're a strong man.
Of course. I wouldn't
let anyone harm him.
And you were not there
that night.
Unlucky coincidence, Chief.
Mr. Yvain himself
sent me to the countryside.
To the countryside?
Mr. Yvain had a house
in Sermaise,
near Dourdan.
With a farm.
I was in charge of it all.
I left at about 4 pm,
and was back in Paris
after 9 pm.
I went to Play-Boy directly.
It was too late.
I really liked Mr. Yvain.
Unlucky coincidence.
Unlucky coincidence, indeed.
Did anyone see you there...
at the farm?
I don't know.
The farm workers, for sure.
Anyways, I was with Eléonore.
Eléonore?
My fiancée.
She works at Play-Boy.
We're getting married soon.
Yes?
- There are 2 photographers.
- No...
- And a journalist.
- No.
From the Cinagraphe agency.
Just greet them.
No, I have a press attaché.
Where is he?
- Borelli?
- Yes. Is he dead?
- He's sick.
- Of lassitude, I suppose.
- No, he has an infected finger.
- An infected finger...
I can't believe this.
Where is Jean-Marc?
- Right here.
- Good.
- What about the screening?
- Simon's waiting.
Okay, let's go.
- He's very worried.
- Simon? Is it an infected finger?
Funny. No, Borelli has
an infected finger.
Simon is worried you might
not approve his film.
He'll make his film.
- What do you mean?
- Come along.
Stay seated,
we're not in the army.
I heard about your accident
and wanted to say...
Don't, Simon.
It's irrelevant.
Right, let's watch this.
I need to explain
something first.
Explain as we go along.
Mr. Jussieu,
it's about the prologue,
the prologue in which you're...
I was against it,
now I'm not.
Come on, my friend.
Screen it.
Screen it!
It's starting.
The spectator must feel
he's penetrating
into an increasingly
opaque universe,
and we will hear
the following text.
"After the night, the cold,
"the hunger, the fear...
"I no longer recognized anything
in the mansion.
"I had left a child
without a heart or face,
"blind and deaf, naked,
"laying down, without age.
"And I walked to meet her
with a pounding heart
"watchful, lost, patient,
"shadows amidst
the lifeless stone...
"I walked on, trembling,
"waiting for a scream
to ring out."
Eléonore Germain,
24-year-old dancer.
You're Mr. Soulinas' friend.
I'm his fiancée, Chief.
We're getting married.
Mr. Soulinas said you went
to the country yesterday.
We did.
He takes me there
whenever he can.
You left at around 4 pm
and came back at 9 pm.
That is correct.
Did you know Mr. Yvain?
I did, very well.
Very well?
In an honorable way, Chief.
He was like a father to me.
He encouraged me.
To do what?
To become a host at Play-Boy.
So...?
- Have you recalled anything?
- Nothing.
The best way to block thoughts
is to watch girls.
I'm not sure your method
will work.
I don't want him
to think, madam,
I want a flash of lighting
to spring from him.
Here?
Yes, because this is
the crime site.
I had forgotten.
This place is so unlike
a crime site.
Don't you think it's weird
that things continue
as if nothing had happened?
Why not?
It's excellent publicity.
The smell of blood
attracts people.
And police chiefs.
I must admit I've had
less pleasant jobs.
- Excuse me, madam.
- No, please!
Let it be.
The more they speak of it,
the better.
- Why?
- I'll explain later.
Ladies... and gentlemen...
tonight, for the first time
in history,
on the stage of Play-Boy...
the electric chair.
Tonight...
and every night until the end
of the 5th Republic...
this chair will be electrified
by Poupée of Paris.
Poupée Le Rose.
Poupée Le Rose.
- That's fine.
- Thank you, sir.
- Oh, sorry.
- Good evening, Chief.
Miss Juliette.
- Have you gotten over it?
- Yes, I have.
What are you insinuating?
Nothing, Chief.
Do you mean you've
no reason to feel moved,
but that other girls might
feel less at ease?
I'm not saying anything, Chief.
Mr. Yvain only had
good friends here.
Did you like the show?
- Don't you want to sleep?
- No.
- What's wrong?
- Nothing.
I know you, Michel.
Stop thinking about it.
Everything will work out.
Malterer is charming.
He's charming because
your father spoke to him.
Anyways, charming or not,
I don't like cops.
I know them all too well.
That's another story, Michel.
You're playing the little
Résistance soldier.
Little soldiers pass,
the police doesn't.
Malterer is only doing his job.
And I think he does it
very nicely.
Yes, sure.
He even calls it
"a friendly collaboration."
One must sometimes
collaborate with the police.
You're probably right.
Maybe I'm being intolerant.
Sleep, baby. Sweet dreams.
Try to stop worrying.
Goodnight.
Night.
Elsa had uttered
that unspeakable phrase:
"Collaborating with the police."
It could revive
the secret shame
he had buried deep down inside.
That was what he'd been fighting
since that morning...
but night had come,
and now it was too late.
Hello?
Hello?
The Colonel said:
"I give you one minute.
"Talk, or you'll go back
to the other side.
"You know what awaits you."
- Tell him to fuck off.
- You're crazy.
Tell him to fuck off.
You're crazy.
I can't tell him that.
You've got half an hour.
Think about it.
You should talk.
The Colonel knows everything.
Save yourself.
Michel Jussieu was tired,
but he had stopped suffering.
He would have wanted to stop
thinking, like an animal,
but he couldn't help thinking
he'd be killed
or that his life would
suddenly black out.
The idea of being tortured again
horrified him,
so he started feeling fear,
and looked for a way out.
The interpreter had said
that the Colonel knew everything.
Michel wondered:
Everything?
Had someone else talked?
Had Pierre Malet, his network chief,
been arrested?
These questions hid
the truth from him.
He would give up.
Hurry up.
Can you imagine going back
for nothing?
For nothing.
Okay.
The date?
May 23.
Time?
There was no fixed time.
- Place?
- 45, quai de Grenelle.
The Colonel said:
"Mr. Jussieu,
"you answered my questions
and will not be executed.
"A military tribunal will judge
your case."
It's just a matter of routine.
We got further information,
and your friends were arrested
8 days ago.
I only made you talk...
as a matter of principle.
If you talk, we'll kill you.
Thank you.
Victoire, call Pierre Malet
at the Orsay Gallery,
and then Chief Malterer.
I gave you his number
yesterday.
- Yes, sir.
- Thanks.
Mr. Pierre Malet on line 2.
Thanks!
- Hi, Pierre. How are you?
- And you?
I have a big bruise
on the head.
- Can I come to see you?
- Right now?
In a little while.
Good, see you in a bit. Bye.
Chief Malterer on line 1.
Thanks.
- Hello? Chief Malterer?
- Yes.
This is Michel Jussieu.
Yes.
I'm just calling to ask
if you've found anything.
- No, nothing yet.
- Remember anything?
No, unfortunately not.
That's right.
- See you soon.
- Bye, Mr. Jussieu.
Bye, Chief.
- That Jussieu is weird.
- Weird? Why?
He went to the trouble
of calling me,
but when he got through
he said nothing.
I wonder if he's not sick.
You told me he was innocent.
I know, but there's something else.
Something about this case
affects him personally.
- Something I don't know.
- Morality?
Honorable.
Where were we?
Mr. Patrice de Laborde.
Mr. Yvain
was no longer the owner
of Play-Boy.
4 months ago, he signed it over
to Mr. de Laborde.
- Why?
- A loan guarantee.
His company owed money,
Yvain had tried to get
a loan from a bank.
Since when, why,
and how did they know each other?
They have more or less
the same political tendencies.
Tendencies, maybe,
but different friends.
Laborde is from an old family,
married into banking,
and he's not the kind
to mix with Yvain.
There must be
another reason.
We could see if there's
anything on Laborde.
Do you think Mr. de Laborde
is on a file?
You know full well
that everyone is.
Look, I just got this.
And this.
Nothing to do
with your father-in-law?
No.
He thinks I'm a retard
in that respect,
and I haven't seen him
for 6 months.
- Anyone in your circle?
- No.
No...
One thing is certain.
- It happened by chance.
- What do you mean?
This was not carried out
by amateurs.
A professional wouldn't choose
such a dangerous place.
I know the methods of people
who might have wanted to kill Yvain.
They're not that crazy.
So?
Yvain was killed by chance,
by people who were
not there to kill him.
Then you arrived,
also by chance,
while they were wondering
what to do with the body.
They knocked you out
to buy some time.
Right.
I didn't know this man had
such engagements.
It says: "One might think..."
It asserts nothing.
I know that, Mercier.
But this presumption seems
strong to me.
It's strange, when you look into
the past.
Anybody's past.
It's not the same family
as Alexandre de Laborde's...
The archeologist.
Are you into archeology,
Chief?
Aren't archeologists
like policemen,
trying to explain past enigmas
by rebuilding the past?
Yvain was not killed
by a sadist,
or a bum who'd just been enlightened.
Yvain was killed
by an organization.
The fact I considered him
as a harmful animal
changes nothing.
Yes, it does.
You might have done it.
Maybe.
But I'm not equipped for that.
Plus, I'm all for efficiency.
Given the choice,
I wouldn't have killed him.
He was finished.
Every time something happened,
he was suspect.
Why cut a finger off,
if the head remains?
Right.
I will give you
the benefit of intelligence.
- None of this concerns me.
- I know.
Your wife, daughter,
father-in-law, your films...
You're free, Michel.
Free like you were in 1943,
when you came to see me.
- Freedom...
- Exactly.
The only freedom there is
is to risk one's own
to defend that of others.
You talk like Malterer.
It's your truth that counts,
not his.
I'd like to know
what the truth is.
You will soon, Michel.
Our little lives are filled
with great traps.
You fall in,
and then you learn
by trying to get out.
You will learn.
I'm not obsessed
by the demon of knowledge.
- Mr. Malet.
- Yes?
- It's Mr. Baltus.
- Coming.
I have to go.
- I'll be back.
- Whenever you wish.
Call me before doing
anything stupid.
Don't forget I've always been
shrewder than you.
I've always known it.
The relationship between Malet
and Jussieu was strange.
They had a trusting,
but ambiguous friendship.
After having been Michel's
tough, demanding boss,
Pierre had become
a kind of confident,
but Michel hid
the most essential from him,
thus the ambiguity
of their relationship.
For 17 years, Pierre's attitude
towards Michel
had been that of a spiritual advisor
expecting confession.
But Michel was proud,
as weak people are.
Silence was his pride.
Michel was again followed
by the black 403,
but he didn't mind.
Today, he laughed.
The follower was being followed
because Michel was now
chasing his own past.
Pierre, a great inquisitor,
an enemy of schemes,
witness to those dark hours,
had thrown him back there
once again.
So, once more, Michel knew
he could not escape,
and he stopped
on avenue Victor Hugo,
not because he was being followed,
but because he had
an appointment
with a night of hope
and salvation.
Michel Jussieu spent
17 days in this cell,
without any contact
with the exterior.
He convinced himself
he hadn't turned anyone in,
because someone else
had talked first.
He expected to be confronted
with his comrades,
judged, and deported.
But none of that happened.
His fate was to survive.
He thought he had
nothing to lose.
During a transfer,
he decided to risk it all.
Michel found himself in a city
that was already
a prey to insurrection.
But he didn't know.
Finally, he lay down somewhere,
exhausted,
and remained there
until daybreak.
He was on avenue Victor Hugo,
and walked towards l'Etoile.
Today, he trod the same path
with the same anguish
and tremor.
He could have died there,
with his hands cuffed.
But the appointment he had
on avenue Victor Hugo
was with freedom.
Michel Jussieu had been
like a hero.
He and Pierre Malet,
who had also escaped,
were the sole survivors.
The man who had told it all
had been identified.
Michel had saved
both his life and his honor.
He was a true Resistance fighter.
Nobody knew of his failing,
everything seemed perfect,
but the inevitable happened later.
The young Gestapo interpreter,
Jérôme Loineau,
was arrested and called
Michel to testify.
Michel knew he couldn't save him
without losing himself,
and felt scared.
Hello.
- Did you see Loineau?
- Yes.
Poor guy.
He got himself into a real mess.
He's damned.
Damned?
Others have already fallen
for less.
- What can we do, then?
- Nothing.
We'll do nothing.
What do you mean?
Don't be such a Saint Bernard.
We have to be coherent,
Michel.
Maybe you can't help...
We can always do something.
Loineau is the nephew of a guy
who was my History teacher
in Carnot.
The poor old man called me.
Loineau didn't do anything.
I saw him for 3 minutes
during the interrogation.
- Was he translating?
- No.
I got a guy who spoke French.
Loineau took notes
and looked at me, that's all.
Mr. Jussieu Michel,
cabinet No. 3.
Don't be a fool, Michel.
- Why do you say that?
- With you, I never know.
I will just tell the truth.
There is no truth, Michel.
It's already been difficult
for you.
Mr. Jussieu Michel?
It's me. I'm coming.
Don't worry.
- Will you wait for me?
- Yeah, sure.
You were interrogated twice,
once on August 5, 1944,
by SS Obersturmbannführer
Von Henckel.
That is correct.
I ignored the name until now.
Was the accused,
Loineau Jérôme, present then?
Yes.
Do you have anything to declare
regarding the attitude
of the accused
during those interrogations?
He was the interpreter.
He didn't torture anyone.
His attitude towards me
was very polite,
very humane.
Do you have anything else to add?
About what, exactly?
Jérôme Loineau, would you
please tell us exactly
why you asked
Mr. Jussieu to testify?
Mr. Jussieu, do you remember
how I was dressed?
Did I wear a uniform?
No.
This detail has already
been confirmed,
and we know it's a point,
however minor, in your favor.
You told me
that Mr. Jussieu's testimony
would be key for you.
I did.
Mr. Loineau, given the state
that I was in,
perhaps my memory of the facts
is not very precise,
but I will make an effort
to recall whatever you need.
It doesn't matter anymore.
Loineau, you have the right
to defend yourself.
It's too late, or too early.
I'm finished anyways.
Mr. Jussieu, we're sorry
to have bothered you
to clarify something
that was clear already.
Do you have anything to add?
Maybe I am
forgetting something.
If Mr. Loineau remembers
any precise gestures or words,
he must speak.
I will confirm anything
that seems true.
Loineau, speak.
There's no need
to talk in vain.
This is all useless.
It's not useless.
Mr. Jussieu really wants
to help you!
And I thank him, but I won't
talk for nothing.
About nothing.
I don't understand.
I'm sure Mr. Jussieu does.
In that case,
I see no need to continue
this interview.
Mr. Jussieu,
your testimony will probably not be
of use during the trial.
Michel Jussieu
never saw Jérôme again.
He was not summoned
to the trial.
Jérôme was sentenced to death.
The day Michel read
he'd been executed,
he could not help feeling
extremely relieved.
He was finally free.
Was that the price
of his own cowardice?
He forbade himself
to answer the question.
Jérôme had now tried to help him
twice.
Why?
Was he just a practical
young man?
First, he hadn't wanted Michel
to die for nothing,
and now, knowing he was lost,
he hadn't wanted
Michel to pay him back.
So Michel forgot
the man with the sad smile,
and that only Pierre
might have doubted something.
He forgot it all.
Strangely enough, now,
the murder of an activist
columnist brought it all back.
Jérôme's smile
came back slowly
from the night lights
and the shadows of day.
Now...
Rapha Temporel.
The fisherwoman...
that will use her net
to catch you all.
And now... Rapha Temporel
in The Taste of a Hammock.
- Hello, Mr. Jussieu.
- Good evening.
Don't you recognize me?
I took your sweater that night.
Oh... I've no sweater tonight.
What's the name of the girl
performing?
- Eléonore?
- Her name is Eléonore?
Eléonore Germain,
she was Mr. Yvain's favorite.
- Could I see her?
- See her?
Yes, I might have a role for her
in a movie.
Dressing room 4.
Turn right at the end
for the dressing rooms.
- Number 4?
- Yes.
- Thanks.
- You're welcome.
I don't know why,
I feel tired.
Do what I do.
Take Catabo Phosphos.
- What?
- Catabo Phosphos.
Come in!
- Sorry.
- Sir, please!
I will wait outside.
- Why did you say "Come in"?
- I thought it was Mariette.
Be careful.
Come on, you show them
every night anyways.
It's not the same thing.
I wonder what he wants.
Think he's here for you?
Eddy, there's a man
in Eléonore's dressing room.
You're a gossip.
I don't care, Eddy...
but there is a man
in Eléonore's dressing room.
How do you know?
He asked me how to get there.
- Who is he?
- Michel Jussieu.
Are you crazy?
Go check.
What does he want?
To offer her a movie role.
A movie role?
You must be kidding me.
That's what he said.
A role as a strip teaser,
I think.
I think he must want
to see her naked.
Another one.
A Coke, please.
Tell me why you hate her.
- Who?
- Eléonore.
- She stole Eddy from you.
- She didn't steal him.
Yeah, sure.
You're disgusting.
Leave me alone
and see to your bottles.
- Is he still there?
- Go see.
- Mr...?
- Michel Jussieu.
What do you want?
- Do you know who I am?
- Yes.
- Can I come in and sit?
- No.
We've all been interrogated.
I have nothing more to say.
Would you like to be
in a movie?
What?
I'm not joking.
Well, sit down.
- Should I leave?
- No!
- Do you smoke?
- No.
- And your friend?
- No.
- Do you mind if I do?
- No.
- Not at all.
- Thanks.
Miss, I'm producing a film.
A musical.
- American-style, you know.
- I see.
I saw you perform today,
and I liked what I saw.
That's all.
That's very nice of you.
Would you like to do a test?
A test?
I need to know
what you can do.
Can I have a picture of you?
This one, for example.
Sure, if you want...
Here. I'll take it.
Write down your name, address,
and phone number.
My secretary will call you
tomorrow or the next day.
Thanks.
Excuse me.
I'll leave you now.
You are charming.
Good evening.
Good evening.
- Good evening.
- Evening, sir.
- Well, darling...
- Shh.
Are you crazy?
- Get out!
- What is it?
- Do you want one too?
- Okay, okay.
- Who is that guy?
- Who?
- The one who just left.
- Are you jealous?
Who is he? Answer me.
He's a producer and wants
me to be in a movie.
Mr. Michel Jussieu, right?
Why ask if you know?
- You believed it?
- What?
- That he liked you?
- I couldn't kick him out.
- But you know who he is.
- Yes.
And you let him in here?
He can send us to jail!
- He didn't ask anything.
- He's not stupid.
So he came here
just for you.
Just for me?
He didn't come to play.
He was respectful.
Respectful? You're
half-naked in here!
- I'm not naked.
- Well, almost.
We all know how
such visits end.
In bed.
You love me, don't you?
So you went to see her
and said:
"Do you want to be
in a movie?"
Yes.
And she said:
"Sure, thank you."
No, she was a bit surprised.
She's not dumb.
She must know what I want.
What do you want?
I didn't go to Play-Boy tonight
to see girls
or to find one
that I liked among them,
you know.
With men, you never know.
I am not "men."
We've lived together
for long enough.
I should be a certain man for you.
Alright.
You're a certain man.
Or rather a very vague man
that I certainly know.
I'm not more jealous of the dancer
than of the starlets
you use in your films.
Me? You think I use them?
You have 15-year-old cuties
that like to be grabbed.
It's fun. That's
the bad guy in you,
the one that misses
his army years.
You're imagining things.
I'm in love with you.
I'm not complaining.
But back to your dancer.
I think what you're doing
is childish.
Elsa.
There's something
that bothers me about all this.
It would be more childish
to deny that.
Michel, if that girl is involved,
she will alert her accomplices.
It's better if she does.
That's what I want.
A nice round of gunshots,
that's what you want.
I want is a glass
of something cold to drink.
- Want anything?
- Yes.
No.
All I want is for you
to go to bed.
Just a minute, madam.
You're reading
Giraudoux now?
- It was the teacher.
- What?
She told us to read it.
Do you understand it?
Of course. We also read
The Infernal Machine.
- By Cocteau?
- By l'Académie française.
She's bold.
She's funny.
She drew the "Spinx" for us.
- Sphinx.
- "Spinx."
- No, sphinx.
- Sphinx.
She drew it like a dog with
a woman's head and breasts.
- What's funny about that?
- The breasts.
- How is your wound?
- Better.
Are the murderers
still out there?
Not for much longer.
So long, my General.
Hey...
did you know she's reading
Giraudoux and Cocteau?
Yes, and it makes sense.
- Does it worry you?
- No.
It should.
The films you produce are
suitable for 8-year-olds.
When those poor kids
go to the movies...
- What?
- They won't be good clients.
- You're aggressive.
- I'm not.
But you're so naive sometimes.
It hasn't stopped.
- What?
- Well, this.
Listen.
"You're too curious.
Watch out for lost bullets."
- Are you seeing Malterer?
- Yes, at 11.30 am.
Tell him about the girl,
the letters, etc.
Why should I?
You're not a detective.
Let Malterer do his job.
My best guarantee
is for them to know
I haven't told
Malterer anything.
Sooner or later, they will
think you did tell him.
- Are you listening to me?
- I'm listening.
No you're not.
It's as if I were singing.
The end of Electra
is beautiful.
"What is it called
when the day breaks
"and everything is
ruined, wrecked,
"when the air is breathable
but you've lost it all,
"when the city burns,
innocent people kill,
"and the guilty agonize
in a corner of the day..."
Ask the bum, he knows.
"That has a name, Narsès,
"it's called daybreak."
Last night, Mr. Jussieu went
to see Eléonore.
- Eléonore?
- Eléonore Germain.
The blonde who presents
the show.
The blonde. Oh, yes. And?
He offered her a movie role.
And?
And then Eddy slapped her.
- Eddy?
- Soulinas, Eléonore's friend.
Right.
So Eddy slapped Mr. Jussieu.
No, he slapped Eléonore
after Jussieu left.
I don't think that's funny
at all, miss.
Don't you think it's a bit strange?
I don't think anything, miss,
I record facts.
- And then?
- That's it.
Are you sure?
- Yes?
- Mr. Jussieu is here.
Ask him to wait a moment.
Are you quite sure you have
nothing to add?
- Yes.
- Okay.
Take her to the room next door
and type up
her spontaneous declaration.
Yes, Chief.
- In writing?
- Yes.
- Oh.
- This way.
Mercier, tell Jussieu to come in.
Yes, Chief.
Sorry I made you wait.
- Don't worry.
- Have a seat.
Mr. Jussieu, I will tell you what
I'm wondering about you.
About me?
I'd like to ask you
3 questions.
Please, go ahead.
Yesterday, you went
to visit Mr. Pierre Malet.
That is correct.
I understand you met him
during the Resistance.
That is quite right.
Malet and you hold
political opinions that are
opposed to Georges Yvain's.
If this was a political crime...
which is the only
valid hypothesis...
Oh, sorry.
Malet has nothing
to do with all this.
I went to see him
to talk about all this,
which worries me.
And now, my 2nd question.
Do you know a man
called de Laborde?
Patrice de Laborde.
He runs Hebdo.
Oh yes, Hebdo.
I must have heard his name.
Did you know that he owns
Play-Boy, not Georges Yvain?
No. How could I have known?
Okay.
3rd question.
Last night, you went to Play-Boy.
- I did.
- Why?
They say killers prowl around
their crime scenes.
What about the victims?
I have a feeling
that the truth lies there, somewhere.
So you're running
a parallel investigation.
Let's not exaggerate.
You went to see
Miss Eléonore Germain
after the show.
I did.
Why?
About a film.
I'm looking for a girl who can
both dance and play a role.
Mr. Jussieu, you told me
you went back to Play-Boy
because you thought the key
to this case was hidden there.
That said...
you went backstage
to meet a dancer
who knew Georges Yvain
very well,
and you want me to believe
it was a professional matter?
I don't "want you to believe."
It's the truth.
I've already interrogated
Miss Eléonore Germain,
as she's Eddy's girlfriend.
Eddy was in charge
of protecting Yvain.
But you didn't recognize her photo,
and she's Soulinas' alibi.
They were out of town
that day.
So I have nothing
against her.
However, if you have discovered
anything in particular about her
it would be... well...
very inconvenient
for our investigation
if you didn't tell us.
Is this a warning?
Is that a confession?
2 opposing questions
cancel each other, Chief.
I don't understand.
If we find out who did it,
we will all be safe.
To step aside is...
To become a suspect
in your eyes.
No.
I knew from the start
that you were innocent.
But your innocence
can become disturbing.
That's a very polite way
to treat me like an idiot.
Let's not play with words.
I just wanted to say this:
It's easier to deal
with good, guilty people,
than with bad innocents.
Mr. Malet is downstairs.
Thank you.
Etienne-Martin,
Petite Demeure.
Are you still
playing detective?
I went back to Play-Boy
last night.
I had an intuition, you know.
A girl who presents the show
caught my attention.
I'm sure she was there
the day of the crime.
You only saw her as a shadow
against the light.
No! It was her voice.
You said she didn't speak.
Listen, a priori,
I don't remember anything,
but something clicked as soon
as I saw her on stage
and heard her voice.
I thought that was
the voice I heard.
So I went to her dressing room
and now I'm even more
convinced it was her.
So she did talk then.
- What about?
- I don't know. I'll remember.
- You want my advice?
- Yes.
If you're 100% certain,
tell Malterer.
That's what Elsa said.
Otherwise, go see her again.
- What would you do?
- I'm not you.
What interests me about this
is the political aspect.
- I'd try to find...
- A scheme.
Laugh if you want, my son...
but that's probably it.
Yes, possibly.
- I'm after something else.
- I know.
What?
What you're after.
I've always known.
Forget it, Michel.
There's no memory, no past.
This is nothing but good literature.
There's only the present,
and the uncertain future.
It's complicated enough as it is.
Our children...
Their only right
is to be badly brought up.
Believe me, Michel,
Elsa is right.
Let Malterer do his job.
Ask him to put you in jail
until he has arrested
everyone else.
This is, in a way,
what follows
from the sequence
I showed you yesterday.
The search continues.
After his first failure,
the narrator...
Yes, you'll see,
he comes to a naked wall
after having crossed
a kind of monk.
The narrator leaves again
and, right at the end
of a narrow street,
he catches a glimpse of a shape,
a character.
That's where the film starts.
Let's see.
Screen it.
You can start.
At this moment,
when the search continues,
we again hear, transposed,
or otherwise disposed,
the text from the other day.
Now it starts from the end.
"Among the damp crowd
of my buried memories,
"as I waited for that scream,
"I walked trembling, watchful,
"lost, patient."
Patrice? Are you Patrice?
Patrice?
Are you Patrice?
"...she lay blind and deaf,
"without a face or heart,
"the child I had left
in the great mansion
"after the fear, the hunger,
"the cold, the night."
It's good.
Very good.
- Do you really think so?
- Oh yes.
It's perfect.
There's nothing to change.
But why that sentence?
What sentence?
She said something
facing the camera.
She didn't say anything.
- You didn't hear it?
- I only heard Simon.
No, on the screen.
There was no sound.
No words.
Of course.
- Do you know Mr. de Laborde?
- No.
Patrice de Laborde,
the manager of Hebdo.
Oh, yes, Hebdo. Yes.
I must have heard of him.
Jean-Marc, you must tell
Miss Eléonore Germain
to come tomorrow at 11.
Longchamp 63 58.
- Do you like them?
- Very much.
You have no idea how important it is
to have nice feet.
But I do know.
You're elsewhere.
I'm sorry. You're right.
Don't be sorry.
We all have our troubles.
You're wonderful.
No, I'm just kind.
But I haven't changed
my mind about your case.
Tell Malterer.
- Even after what I told you?
- What? That strange story?
I'm sure I'm not mistaken.
Maybe.
- The girl said "Patrice."
- Yes.
Patrice de Laborde is the man
who came in and hit you.
Then what?
Don't you find that weird?
Not really.
I want to keep
playing detective.
- Laborde was Yvain's friend.
- Yes.
Someone called to tell him
about his friend.
Of course he went there.
But why knock me out?
Maybe he took you
for the murderer.
Just like that?
Without proof?
- What do you think?
- I think Laborde knows.
No! I mean the dress.
What dress?
2 darts here... look.
And a wide belt.
A naked shoulder...
Wonderful idea.
Isn't it?
Go see Malterer.
If you don't, I will tell Dad.
If you tell your father,
I will leave you.
- Like this?
- That's...
If it's Mom, I'm asleep.
- Hello?
- Mr. Jussieu?
- Yes, it's me.
- You could be dead tomorrow.
- Who is this?
- You could be dead tomorrow.
Hello?
Well, it seems like I'll be...
Michel, are you coming?
I'll do a dance for you.
I'll be right back.
Yes, Elsa was wonderful,
carefree, light,
futile, coquettish.
She only worried about
her beauty, face and body.
Michel had loved her
for being so carefree,
so light, so futile,
and so coquettish.
Once married, she'd given him
the greatest proof of love:
Not to change.
She had married him,
but not become his wife.
She had given birth,
but not become a mother.
Her seeming indifference
to Michel's worries
was a great relief to him.
She proved to him
that life went on.
While Michel fought
his own ghosts and enigmas,
Elsa, a sophisticated flower,
a greedy lover,
prepared her Arabian dance
for her sultan.
"She perceived a shadow
before her
"and nervously asked:
"'Manfred, is it you?'
"There was no answer.
The shadow seemed gone.
"She crosses the scene
towards the other side.
"The same shadow awaits her,
indecisive, floating.
"With a pale voice,
"she again asks:
'Manfred, is it...?'"
Go on.
No. What do you want from me?
Yes, you do know.
I know you asked your friends'
permission to come here.
What are you talking about?
You know!
You can no longer deny it.
- Go tell your friends!
- What friends?
Those who are so sad
about Yvain's death.
Tell them to leave me alone.
I'm amnesiac.
I didn't see or hear anything.
- You're mad.
- My patience has its limits.
If they've something to say,
let them do so!
It's 11 am. I will see
Chief Malterer at 4 pm.
I'd like to hear from you
before then.
You know how to reach me.
Do you still make
Cologne Impériale for men?
Not since the war started.
What a pity.
Anything like it?
I don't think so.
I will ask Mr. Philibert.
- Hello.
- Sir.
Sorry, we don't make it anymore.
What a pity.
If you're interested
in our old perfumes,
we've recently made
a few bottles.
Maybe you can come by
next week.
They'll be ready on Tuesday.
I'll be delighted to...
- I'll come by. See you.
- Good bye.
Goodbye, miss.
What is it with you?
Lee, call my father
on the phone.
Right away, madam.
Excuse me, sir.
I thought you had gone out.
No, I'm here.
What is it?
Your wife called you.
She didn't want to bother you.
She's eating with her father.
Her father?
You can call him
at Invalides...
- I wrote it down.
- I know it.
Thanks, Victoire.
Michel knew that Elsa
had had it.
He knew she'd tell
her father everything,
and that he would
call Malterer,
who would take
the necessary measures
to keep the minister's
son-in-law
from compromising
the old man's political position.
Michel knew that Elsa
had fought for long
before coming to that.
She didn't like to get
involved in such things.
Something must have happened,
or maybe she just
refused to compromise,
and despise gratuitous
madness and Quixotism.
- Dad?
- Yes?
- What are you thinking about?
- About you.
You always say that
when I ask you.
Because it's true.
I like girls, so it's normal
for me to think about my own.
- And Mom?
- I think about her too.
I like women, so it's normal...
- To think about your own.
- That's right.
Sir, it's for you.
- It's Miss Germain.
- I'm coming.
Yes, it's me.
At 3 pm?
At your house?
Trust me. This is not a trap.
I do trust you.
Well, thank you.
I'll be waiting, then.
Where do you live?
15 bis, avenue de Chambure.
The die had been cast.
Now nothing could
abolish chance.
With angst, Michel knew
that the time to make
choices was over.
- Making progress?
- Yes.
We're having a championship.
I'm training.
I see.
- Let me light it.
- Sure.
Thanks.
Dad, tell me a story.
- A story?
- Yes. A funny one.
I don't know many stories.
Come on, think.
Well...
Oh, yes! I read one recently.
- Is it funny?
- I think it is.
- Lee, bring my coffee here.
- Yes, sir.
Well, go on!
Right.
A man was having lunch
with his daughter.
Just like you and me.
The man wanted to know
if the girl knew History,
so he talked to her
about the French Revolution.
And since the girl
was not interested,
the man got angry and said:
"You've never heard
of Louis XVI?"
"No," said the girl.
- "And Marie Antoinette?"
- "No."
- "Danton?"
- "No."
- "Robespierre?"
- "Oh, I know him.
"Robespierre
and Jean-Marc Thibault."
I knew you wouldn't
find it funny.
That's so stupid.
Don't you know Roger Pierre
and J-M. Thibault?
No.
What about Robespierre?
He's the man who cut
everyone's heads off.
Thanks.
- I want my sugar cube.
- Take it.
- Oh gosh...
- "I really have to go."
- Don't you have school?
- No.
I have gym until 4 pm
and Mom told me not to go.
- Why?
- I don't know.
Well...
Have fun.
- I was scared I'd miss you!
- What's wrong?
Michel.
We have to talk.
- Don't worry, honey. I know.
- What do you know?
That you told your father
everything at lunch.
- Did he call you?
- No.
I just felt it.
- Michel, it's...
- For my own good, yes.
I'm not complaining.
One must always act
according to one's duty.
Oh, Michel...
- Michel, I love you.
- Yes, I know.
Me too.
- None of this matters.
- It does.
- Dad said to be careful.
- How kind of him.
Politically disastrous,
but still very kind.
Let me come with you.
No way. I'm going to see
Germain and then Malterer.
- Let me come along.
- Calm down.
Let's meet up later, huh?
I'll go to Pierre's at 5 pm.
Call me at the gallery...
and we'll decide
where to have dinner.
I'll call you.
- Michel.
- What?
- Michel, be careful.
- I will be.
See you later.
Hello?
- Eléonore?
- Yes.
- Luco here. Michel just left.
- Right.
It's Luco.
Michel just left his house.
Good.
Tell him to meet me
at the agreed spot.
- Hello?
- Yes?
Meet Patrice
at the agreed spot.
- At the agreed spot?
- Yes.
Okay.
He'll be here in 5 minutes.
I'll be in the car with Eddy.
I can see this window
from there.
If it works, lower the curtain
when he's left.
I'll understand.
Okay?
Okay.
I'm counting on you, Eléonore.
Please be smart, for 2.
And...
change your clothes
for something a little sexier.
Earn time!
He'll come. It'll work.
- If she does that...
- You idiot.
This is all your fault.
I don't care!
She's mine.
I don't want him touching her.
- If she does it...
- Shut up.
Hello.
Come in.
Am I too early?
No.
- Something to drink?
- No, thanks.
Are we alone?
You can trust me.
I have no choice.
You know this is a matter
of life...
or death for you.
No.
I don't think so.
It's normal for Laborde to try
to intimidate me,
I understand.
He must think I've talked
to other people.
If he kills me, he'll have
to kill them as well.
He's tried to intimidate me
for a few days...
and that's fine.
That's how it is.
But now, he wants to talk.
Well, okay.
But, before that,
tell me something.
What?
What's the real story
of Mr. Yvain's death?
I don't know it.
Let me help you.
Yvain was in trouble.
Why was he bailed out?
No reason.
They were in the same...
In the same what?
I don't know.
In the same group?
The same scheme?
I don't know.
I don't like politics.
A kind of organization.
Yes.
A kind of political
organization.
Okay.
Laborde is the boss.
I think so.
I'm sure of it.
What else?
Laborde and Yvain
were not getting along.
Why?
I think Yvain was
in too much trouble...
so he was asked to leave.
For South America, I think.
- And he didn't want to?
- No.
- He didn't want to retire.
- Don't worry, I understand.
They then decided to kill him.
How could he not have
suspected anything?
What Yvain ignored was
that Eddy had betrayed him
long before.
Eddy, your fiancé?
I thought he was
his bodyguard.
Yvain thought so too.
He didn't know Eddy had moved
to Patrice's side.
I followed the movement too,
because of Eddy.
Without really knowing
what it was about.
And then what?
One day,
Patrice sent Luco
to talk to Yvain once more.
Yvain, it's a reasonable offer.
I'm not leaving!
I won't give up
after 10 years of fighting.
If you don't leave voluntarily...
What? Will you kill me?
Is this a threat?
Yvain, be reasonable!
You're making fun of me!
I will not have it!
Tell Laborde I've fought
many of his kind.
He's wrong if he thinks
he's in charge.
If one of us can kill
the other,
I will kill him first!
Killed by chance.
Pierre was right.
Excuse me?
Forget it.
Did you all get nervous?
A bit, yes.
Luco called Patrice,
and he said he'd be there
right away.
He told us to be ready
to move the body.
I was waiting for Patrice.
I heard a noise.
Patrice?
Is it you, Patrice?
It's very satisfying
to come full circle.
- Yes?
- Are you okay?
Yes. In a minute.
Are your friends impatient?
Yes.
Okay, here is what
I'm supposed to offer.
If you don't talk,
if you don't tell anyone,
you'll be left alone.
What guarantee do you have
that I won't talk?
This.
What is it?
It's an antedated letter
from you to Yvain.
You must copy it
in your own hand.
Funny.
- Okay, it worked.
- Did it?
I'm not saying it's over,
but at least we bought time.
She couldn't have done it.
- I'm going to kill them...
- No, you won't.
Stay here.
I'll go see Eléonore.
- I'll come with you.
- No, wait here.
You're all bastards!
Don't make me angry.
Just do as I said.
Give it here.
- What for?
- Give me it.
It'll take me 5 minutes.
He didn't sign it?
He won't talk.
- He didn't sign!
- But he won't talk!
Fortunately, that idiot
is not armed.
Sir, I would have preferred
not to have to come to this,
but we can't keep
playing around.
You told your wife...
I know.
She talked to her father,
and he told you everything.
Thank you for making it
easy for me.
Let me ask you...
Have you met Miss Germain
several times?
Yes.
I had suspicions about her.
But I was wrong.
She knows nothing.
She's not a part of this.
I'm sorry, but I don't believe you.
Mr. Jussieu...
I know a lot of things.
Let's help each other.
I've gone through this
before in my life.
It's never done me any good.
I can tell you a lot
about Patrice de Laborde.
I'm not interested.
Do your job, Chief,
and don't ask me to do one
that's not mine.
Do you know of the existence
of Penal Code Article 62,
which condemns
non-denunciation?
I know it.
I don't want you to think
this is a threat.
I'm just pointing out
your responsibilities.
Why are you protecting
these people,
who mean nothing to you?
I'm not asking you
to accuse anyone,
but to testify. Just that.
Chief, I recently read a novel
in which I read these words:
"To give in,
is to give in to everything."
So?
So, that's it.
To give in is to give up.
So he's still trying
to never give up...
If you don't need me anymore...
I can't keep you here.
I don't have that power.
Mercier!
Call Laborde, Eddy,
Eléonore and Georges Luco.
Keep them here
until tomorrow.
I will question them
before noon.
If you need me for anything,
call Bartez.
October 30, 1961,
4.30 pm.
Michel Jussieu knows once more
that courage is a simple
and serious thing.
He is finally free and happy.
Michel!
THE END
Subtitles: ECLAIR
of our metamorphoses." P. Eluard
This story begins in Paris,
around 8 pm,
on October 26, 1961,
a day of general strike.
Newspaper headlines read
"Paris Slows Down"
and announced that the 1962 car
sticker would be turquoise.
Denunciation
Patrice?
Are you Patrice?
- What's going on?
- I don't know.
- There's someone in here.
- I think so.
No!
Careful!
Georges Yvain murdered
- Who is it?
- Your father.
- Shall I bring the phone?
- To the study.
- Here is your mail.
- Thanks, Lee.
Don't worry, he's fine.
He was hit, that's all.
He'd forgotten his sweater.
- His sweater?
- Yes.
He went to get a sweater
he had left there.
No, he doesn't know.
How could he?
Believe me,
he didn't kill him.
- Who?
- Malterer.
Malterer. Okay, I'll tell him.
First Warning:
If you talk, we'll kill you.
So, murderer...
The murderer is fine.
- What about the wound?
- I've a headache.
My dad called.
Imagine that.
I bet he summoned
the Council of Ministers.
Almost.
Poor dad.
Put yourself in his shoes.
- You're supposedly a leftist.
- Supposedly?
Lying next to the corpse
of activist Georges Yvain.
- So what?
- My father's a minister.
- What must he think?
- That he'll have trouble.
Well, the bar opens at 8 pm.
- I arrived at 8 pm.
- With a key?
No, Mr. Georges has the key.
He's the barman.
He arrives first.
It was already open.
You arrived late that day.
- No.
- Mercier.
Chief.
What did Mr. Georges
say about that?
Mr. Georges said he arrived
at 8 pm on the dot,
and that he tried to open
until 8.03 pm.
So you couldn't have arrived
before 1 second after 8.03 pm.
- That's possible.
- Go on.
I arrived and Georges said
he couldn't open the door.
We tried again,
we knocked.
It was strange.
Did you know
there was a bolt on the inside?
Yes, but nobody ever used it.
Right, you went
to the station next door,
returned with a policeman
and broke in.
Correct.
Why do you think
Mr. Georges waited so long
to break in?
We thought it was for the best.
So you thought something
strange was going on,
and that it was better
to go in with a witness.
Do you know this man?
Sir...
Chief Mauroy has already taken down
your statement.
Yes. I told him everything.
My collaborator, Mr. Mercier,
has that on record here.
Rather than rereading it now,
I'd like you to tell me
about this adventure now,
with a clear head.
Well, of course.
It all started with a sweater.
The night before, my wife
and I were there
with Hugo Pirelli
and his wife.
He's my partner.
I'm a film producer.
Yes, I know.
- You mentioned a sweater.
- Yes.
During the course
of the evening,
I started to feel hot
and went to the cloakroom
to take off my sweater.
When we left, I forgot it.
I realized when I got home,
and thought I'd pick it up
the next day.
So, the next day,
a little before 8 pm,
I left my office
near Play-Boy
and thought it might be open,
so I went there
to get my sweater.
It was closed,
but a sign said:
"The bar opens at 8 pm."
So I waited for a few minutes
and read the paper.
Around 8 pm... I can't
be more precise,
because my watch is a little fast...
I came back, and the door
opened without difficulty.
Please stop.
- Sorry.
- No, please...
The door was closed.
A minute later, it was open.
Yes.
There are 2 possibilities.
It was either unlocked
from the inside,
or someone went in
from the street...
or came out from inside.
I didn't see anyone
go in or out.
I was reading the paper.
That's a pity.
Please continue.
The room was dark.
At the back, a half-open door
let some light in.
I had left the entrance door
open behind me.
I think the wind
slammed it shut.
I took 2 steps forward...
and my feet bumped
into something soft.
It was a body on the floor.
I heard a slight noise.
The door before me opened.
I saw a woman there,
standing still.
I couldn't see her face,
the light was behind her.
Then a man arrived.
I couldn't see his face either.
They must have seen mine,
as I was facing the light.
They said something
and the man came towards me.
He was young, I think.
He was tall
and threatening.
He probably thought
I was someone else.
I thought I'd come across
something shady
and that it would be best
for me to run.
I ran towards the exit.
The door opened,
a man came in,
we got into a fight,
and I was hit
on the head with a stool,
as I learned later.
Everything went black.
When I regained consciousness,
there were a lot of people:
a doctor, a policeman...
My had a memory lapse
for about 10 minutes,
but it came back gradually.
I had just been scared...
and hit on the head.
Well, thank you.
One more thing.
Did you notice if that first man
was holding a weapon?
No.
But, when you first testified
you said this man was
holding a knife.
- Mercier?
- That's right, a knife.
Well, in that case,
I must have said it.
Sorry if I seem like a fake witness.
Don't worry.
The blow you received
may have caused you to forget
what preceded that moment.
This happens often
to knocked-out boxers.
Those memories sometimes
return, or not.
Don't worry if I tell you
there are discrepancies
between what you just told me
and what you told the Chief.
- Oh, really?
- Mercier.
In your first statement,
you said
that you had seen
Yvain's body right away.
Today you said:
"a body on the floor."
I said "Georges Yvain's body"
because I'd just been told
that it was him.
What I really saw then
was a body on the floor.
Nothing indicated
that he was dead.
But he had been dead
for about 20 minutes.
Mercier, I think
there's something more.
Yes, regarding the woman.
Today, you said
that the first man arrived
just after the woman.
Yesterday, you said
that she stood still
at the door for an instant,
and she said something.
I'm sure this man and woman
talked to each other.
That's all I really know.
Don't worry.
It would only be important
if they'd mentioned names
or if you had noticed
a particular accent.
One last thing.
Please look at these photos
and tell me if any of them
ring a bell.
The whole Play-Boy staff
is there,
including the artists.
We want to see if there was
an accomplice inside.
No, nothing.
What about him?
Not really. Who is he?
He's Eddy Soulinas,
Georges's bodyguard.
He's also related to the victim
and must have an alibi.
Have you received any threats
by phone or mail?
No.
Well, thank you
for your time, sir...
but I've one last thing
to ask of you.
I'm going to go
to Play-Boy tonight,
to feel the atmosphere
during the show.
- Would you mind joining me?
- Not at all.
And bring your wife...
I will ask her.
What time is the show?
Michel Jussieu thought what
was happening to him
didn't make any sense.
But he had a wound on his head
and couldn't sleep.
He didn't care
about Georges Yvain.
But that polite, smart officer
bothered him.
As he was going home,
he felt he was being...
Followed?
Yes, by a black car.
Aren't you imagining things?
Black cars are common.
- Taking the same route?
- Well, why not?
Don't start taking yourself
for a crime novel hero
being followed
by men in disguise.
I'm not,
I just had the impression
I was being followed.
- Does it hurt, Dad?
- Does what hurt?
- Your wound.
- Yes, it hurts a lot.
So, you were Mr. Yvain's bodyguard?
Not exactly.
This is not Chicago.
No, I was his secretary.
But you were in charge
of protecting him.
You're a strong man.
Of course. I wouldn't
let anyone harm him.
And you were not there
that night.
Unlucky coincidence, Chief.
Mr. Yvain himself
sent me to the countryside.
To the countryside?
Mr. Yvain had a house
in Sermaise,
near Dourdan.
With a farm.
I was in charge of it all.
I left at about 4 pm,
and was back in Paris
after 9 pm.
I went to Play-Boy directly.
It was too late.
I really liked Mr. Yvain.
Unlucky coincidence.
Unlucky coincidence, indeed.
Did anyone see you there...
at the farm?
I don't know.
The farm workers, for sure.
Anyways, I was with Eléonore.
Eléonore?
My fiancée.
She works at Play-Boy.
We're getting married soon.
Yes?
- There are 2 photographers.
- No...
- And a journalist.
- No.
From the Cinagraphe agency.
Just greet them.
No, I have a press attaché.
Where is he?
- Borelli?
- Yes. Is he dead?
- He's sick.
- Of lassitude, I suppose.
- No, he has an infected finger.
- An infected finger...
I can't believe this.
Where is Jean-Marc?
- Right here.
- Good.
- What about the screening?
- Simon's waiting.
Okay, let's go.
- He's very worried.
- Simon? Is it an infected finger?
Funny. No, Borelli has
an infected finger.
Simon is worried you might
not approve his film.
He'll make his film.
- What do you mean?
- Come along.
Stay seated,
we're not in the army.
I heard about your accident
and wanted to say...
Don't, Simon.
It's irrelevant.
Right, let's watch this.
I need to explain
something first.
Explain as we go along.
Mr. Jussieu,
it's about the prologue,
the prologue in which you're...
I was against it,
now I'm not.
Come on, my friend.
Screen it.
Screen it!
It's starting.
The spectator must feel
he's penetrating
into an increasingly
opaque universe,
and we will hear
the following text.
"After the night, the cold,
"the hunger, the fear...
"I no longer recognized anything
in the mansion.
"I had left a child
without a heart or face,
"blind and deaf, naked,
"laying down, without age.
"And I walked to meet her
with a pounding heart
"watchful, lost, patient,
"shadows amidst
the lifeless stone...
"I walked on, trembling,
"waiting for a scream
to ring out."
Eléonore Germain,
24-year-old dancer.
You're Mr. Soulinas' friend.
I'm his fiancée, Chief.
We're getting married.
Mr. Soulinas said you went
to the country yesterday.
We did.
He takes me there
whenever he can.
You left at around 4 pm
and came back at 9 pm.
That is correct.
Did you know Mr. Yvain?
I did, very well.
Very well?
In an honorable way, Chief.
He was like a father to me.
He encouraged me.
To do what?
To become a host at Play-Boy.
So...?
- Have you recalled anything?
- Nothing.
The best way to block thoughts
is to watch girls.
I'm not sure your method
will work.
I don't want him
to think, madam,
I want a flash of lighting
to spring from him.
Here?
Yes, because this is
the crime site.
I had forgotten.
This place is so unlike
a crime site.
Don't you think it's weird
that things continue
as if nothing had happened?
Why not?
It's excellent publicity.
The smell of blood
attracts people.
And police chiefs.
I must admit I've had
less pleasant jobs.
- Excuse me, madam.
- No, please!
Let it be.
The more they speak of it,
the better.
- Why?
- I'll explain later.
Ladies... and gentlemen...
tonight, for the first time
in history,
on the stage of Play-Boy...
the electric chair.
Tonight...
and every night until the end
of the 5th Republic...
this chair will be electrified
by Poupée of Paris.
Poupée Le Rose.
Poupée Le Rose.
- That's fine.
- Thank you, sir.
- Oh, sorry.
- Good evening, Chief.
Miss Juliette.
- Have you gotten over it?
- Yes, I have.
What are you insinuating?
Nothing, Chief.
Do you mean you've
no reason to feel moved,
but that other girls might
feel less at ease?
I'm not saying anything, Chief.
Mr. Yvain only had
good friends here.
Did you like the show?
- Don't you want to sleep?
- No.
- What's wrong?
- Nothing.
I know you, Michel.
Stop thinking about it.
Everything will work out.
Malterer is charming.
He's charming because
your father spoke to him.
Anyways, charming or not,
I don't like cops.
I know them all too well.
That's another story, Michel.
You're playing the little
Résistance soldier.
Little soldiers pass,
the police doesn't.
Malterer is only doing his job.
And I think he does it
very nicely.
Yes, sure.
He even calls it
"a friendly collaboration."
One must sometimes
collaborate with the police.
You're probably right.
Maybe I'm being intolerant.
Sleep, baby. Sweet dreams.
Try to stop worrying.
Goodnight.
Night.
Elsa had uttered
that unspeakable phrase:
"Collaborating with the police."
It could revive
the secret shame
he had buried deep down inside.
That was what he'd been fighting
since that morning...
but night had come,
and now it was too late.
Hello?
Hello?
The Colonel said:
"I give you one minute.
"Talk, or you'll go back
to the other side.
"You know what awaits you."
- Tell him to fuck off.
- You're crazy.
Tell him to fuck off.
You're crazy.
I can't tell him that.
You've got half an hour.
Think about it.
You should talk.
The Colonel knows everything.
Save yourself.
Michel Jussieu was tired,
but he had stopped suffering.
He would have wanted to stop
thinking, like an animal,
but he couldn't help thinking
he'd be killed
or that his life would
suddenly black out.
The idea of being tortured again
horrified him,
so he started feeling fear,
and looked for a way out.
The interpreter had said
that the Colonel knew everything.
Michel wondered:
Everything?
Had someone else talked?
Had Pierre Malet, his network chief,
been arrested?
These questions hid
the truth from him.
He would give up.
Hurry up.
Can you imagine going back
for nothing?
For nothing.
Okay.
The date?
May 23.
Time?
There was no fixed time.
- Place?
- 45, quai de Grenelle.
The Colonel said:
"Mr. Jussieu,
"you answered my questions
and will not be executed.
"A military tribunal will judge
your case."
It's just a matter of routine.
We got further information,
and your friends were arrested
8 days ago.
I only made you talk...
as a matter of principle.
If you talk, we'll kill you.
Thank you.
Victoire, call Pierre Malet
at the Orsay Gallery,
and then Chief Malterer.
I gave you his number
yesterday.
- Yes, sir.
- Thanks.
Mr. Pierre Malet on line 2.
Thanks!
- Hi, Pierre. How are you?
- And you?
I have a big bruise
on the head.
- Can I come to see you?
- Right now?
In a little while.
Good, see you in a bit. Bye.
Chief Malterer on line 1.
Thanks.
- Hello? Chief Malterer?
- Yes.
This is Michel Jussieu.
Yes.
I'm just calling to ask
if you've found anything.
- No, nothing yet.
- Remember anything?
No, unfortunately not.
That's right.
- See you soon.
- Bye, Mr. Jussieu.
Bye, Chief.
- That Jussieu is weird.
- Weird? Why?
He went to the trouble
of calling me,
but when he got through
he said nothing.
I wonder if he's not sick.
You told me he was innocent.
I know, but there's something else.
Something about this case
affects him personally.
- Something I don't know.
- Morality?
Honorable.
Where were we?
Mr. Patrice de Laborde.
Mr. Yvain
was no longer the owner
of Play-Boy.
4 months ago, he signed it over
to Mr. de Laborde.
- Why?
- A loan guarantee.
His company owed money,
Yvain had tried to get
a loan from a bank.
Since when, why,
and how did they know each other?
They have more or less
the same political tendencies.
Tendencies, maybe,
but different friends.
Laborde is from an old family,
married into banking,
and he's not the kind
to mix with Yvain.
There must be
another reason.
We could see if there's
anything on Laborde.
Do you think Mr. de Laborde
is on a file?
You know full well
that everyone is.
Look, I just got this.
And this.
Nothing to do
with your father-in-law?
No.
He thinks I'm a retard
in that respect,
and I haven't seen him
for 6 months.
- Anyone in your circle?
- No.
No...
One thing is certain.
- It happened by chance.
- What do you mean?
This was not carried out
by amateurs.
A professional wouldn't choose
such a dangerous place.
I know the methods of people
who might have wanted to kill Yvain.
They're not that crazy.
So?
Yvain was killed by chance,
by people who were
not there to kill him.
Then you arrived,
also by chance,
while they were wondering
what to do with the body.
They knocked you out
to buy some time.
Right.
I didn't know this man had
such engagements.
It says: "One might think..."
It asserts nothing.
I know that, Mercier.
But this presumption seems
strong to me.
It's strange, when you look into
the past.
Anybody's past.
It's not the same family
as Alexandre de Laborde's...
The archeologist.
Are you into archeology,
Chief?
Aren't archeologists
like policemen,
trying to explain past enigmas
by rebuilding the past?
Yvain was not killed
by a sadist,
or a bum who'd just been enlightened.
Yvain was killed
by an organization.
The fact I considered him
as a harmful animal
changes nothing.
Yes, it does.
You might have done it.
Maybe.
But I'm not equipped for that.
Plus, I'm all for efficiency.
Given the choice,
I wouldn't have killed him.
He was finished.
Every time something happened,
he was suspect.
Why cut a finger off,
if the head remains?
Right.
I will give you
the benefit of intelligence.
- None of this concerns me.
- I know.
Your wife, daughter,
father-in-law, your films...
You're free, Michel.
Free like you were in 1943,
when you came to see me.
- Freedom...
- Exactly.
The only freedom there is
is to risk one's own
to defend that of others.
You talk like Malterer.
It's your truth that counts,
not his.
I'd like to know
what the truth is.
You will soon, Michel.
Our little lives are filled
with great traps.
You fall in,
and then you learn
by trying to get out.
You will learn.
I'm not obsessed
by the demon of knowledge.
- Mr. Malet.
- Yes?
- It's Mr. Baltus.
- Coming.
I have to go.
- I'll be back.
- Whenever you wish.
Call me before doing
anything stupid.
Don't forget I've always been
shrewder than you.
I've always known it.
The relationship between Malet
and Jussieu was strange.
They had a trusting,
but ambiguous friendship.
After having been Michel's
tough, demanding boss,
Pierre had become
a kind of confident,
but Michel hid
the most essential from him,
thus the ambiguity
of their relationship.
For 17 years, Pierre's attitude
towards Michel
had been that of a spiritual advisor
expecting confession.
But Michel was proud,
as weak people are.
Silence was his pride.
Michel was again followed
by the black 403,
but he didn't mind.
Today, he laughed.
The follower was being followed
because Michel was now
chasing his own past.
Pierre, a great inquisitor,
an enemy of schemes,
witness to those dark hours,
had thrown him back there
once again.
So, once more, Michel knew
he could not escape,
and he stopped
on avenue Victor Hugo,
not because he was being followed,
but because he had
an appointment
with a night of hope
and salvation.
Michel Jussieu spent
17 days in this cell,
without any contact
with the exterior.
He convinced himself
he hadn't turned anyone in,
because someone else
had talked first.
He expected to be confronted
with his comrades,
judged, and deported.
But none of that happened.
His fate was to survive.
He thought he had
nothing to lose.
During a transfer,
he decided to risk it all.
Michel found himself in a city
that was already
a prey to insurrection.
But he didn't know.
Finally, he lay down somewhere,
exhausted,
and remained there
until daybreak.
He was on avenue Victor Hugo,
and walked towards l'Etoile.
Today, he trod the same path
with the same anguish
and tremor.
He could have died there,
with his hands cuffed.
But the appointment he had
on avenue Victor Hugo
was with freedom.
Michel Jussieu had been
like a hero.
He and Pierre Malet,
who had also escaped,
were the sole survivors.
The man who had told it all
had been identified.
Michel had saved
both his life and his honor.
He was a true Resistance fighter.
Nobody knew of his failing,
everything seemed perfect,
but the inevitable happened later.
The young Gestapo interpreter,
Jérôme Loineau,
was arrested and called
Michel to testify.
Michel knew he couldn't save him
without losing himself,
and felt scared.
Hello.
- Did you see Loineau?
- Yes.
Poor guy.
He got himself into a real mess.
He's damned.
Damned?
Others have already fallen
for less.
- What can we do, then?
- Nothing.
We'll do nothing.
What do you mean?
Don't be such a Saint Bernard.
We have to be coherent,
Michel.
Maybe you can't help...
We can always do something.
Loineau is the nephew of a guy
who was my History teacher
in Carnot.
The poor old man called me.
Loineau didn't do anything.
I saw him for 3 minutes
during the interrogation.
- Was he translating?
- No.
I got a guy who spoke French.
Loineau took notes
and looked at me, that's all.
Mr. Jussieu Michel,
cabinet No. 3.
Don't be a fool, Michel.
- Why do you say that?
- With you, I never know.
I will just tell the truth.
There is no truth, Michel.
It's already been difficult
for you.
Mr. Jussieu Michel?
It's me. I'm coming.
Don't worry.
- Will you wait for me?
- Yeah, sure.
You were interrogated twice,
once on August 5, 1944,
by SS Obersturmbannführer
Von Henckel.
That is correct.
I ignored the name until now.
Was the accused,
Loineau Jérôme, present then?
Yes.
Do you have anything to declare
regarding the attitude
of the accused
during those interrogations?
He was the interpreter.
He didn't torture anyone.
His attitude towards me
was very polite,
very humane.
Do you have anything else to add?
About what, exactly?
Jérôme Loineau, would you
please tell us exactly
why you asked
Mr. Jussieu to testify?
Mr. Jussieu, do you remember
how I was dressed?
Did I wear a uniform?
No.
This detail has already
been confirmed,
and we know it's a point,
however minor, in your favor.
You told me
that Mr. Jussieu's testimony
would be key for you.
I did.
Mr. Loineau, given the state
that I was in,
perhaps my memory of the facts
is not very precise,
but I will make an effort
to recall whatever you need.
It doesn't matter anymore.
Loineau, you have the right
to defend yourself.
It's too late, or too early.
I'm finished anyways.
Mr. Jussieu, we're sorry
to have bothered you
to clarify something
that was clear already.
Do you have anything to add?
Maybe I am
forgetting something.
If Mr. Loineau remembers
any precise gestures or words,
he must speak.
I will confirm anything
that seems true.
Loineau, speak.
There's no need
to talk in vain.
This is all useless.
It's not useless.
Mr. Jussieu really wants
to help you!
And I thank him, but I won't
talk for nothing.
About nothing.
I don't understand.
I'm sure Mr. Jussieu does.
In that case,
I see no need to continue
this interview.
Mr. Jussieu,
your testimony will probably not be
of use during the trial.
Michel Jussieu
never saw Jérôme again.
He was not summoned
to the trial.
Jérôme was sentenced to death.
The day Michel read
he'd been executed,
he could not help feeling
extremely relieved.
He was finally free.
Was that the price
of his own cowardice?
He forbade himself
to answer the question.
Jérôme had now tried to help him
twice.
Why?
Was he just a practical
young man?
First, he hadn't wanted Michel
to die for nothing,
and now, knowing he was lost,
he hadn't wanted
Michel to pay him back.
So Michel forgot
the man with the sad smile,
and that only Pierre
might have doubted something.
He forgot it all.
Strangely enough, now,
the murder of an activist
columnist brought it all back.
Jérôme's smile
came back slowly
from the night lights
and the shadows of day.
Now...
Rapha Temporel.
The fisherwoman...
that will use her net
to catch you all.
And now... Rapha Temporel
in The Taste of a Hammock.
- Hello, Mr. Jussieu.
- Good evening.
Don't you recognize me?
I took your sweater that night.
Oh... I've no sweater tonight.
What's the name of the girl
performing?
- Eléonore?
- Her name is Eléonore?
Eléonore Germain,
she was Mr. Yvain's favorite.
- Could I see her?
- See her?
Yes, I might have a role for her
in a movie.
Dressing room 4.
Turn right at the end
for the dressing rooms.
- Number 4?
- Yes.
- Thanks.
- You're welcome.
I don't know why,
I feel tired.
Do what I do.
Take Catabo Phosphos.
- What?
- Catabo Phosphos.
Come in!
- Sorry.
- Sir, please!
I will wait outside.
- Why did you say "Come in"?
- I thought it was Mariette.
Be careful.
Come on, you show them
every night anyways.
It's not the same thing.
I wonder what he wants.
Think he's here for you?
Eddy, there's a man
in Eléonore's dressing room.
You're a gossip.
I don't care, Eddy...
but there is a man
in Eléonore's dressing room.
How do you know?
He asked me how to get there.
- Who is he?
- Michel Jussieu.
Are you crazy?
Go check.
What does he want?
To offer her a movie role.
A movie role?
You must be kidding me.
That's what he said.
A role as a strip teaser,
I think.
I think he must want
to see her naked.
Another one.
A Coke, please.
Tell me why you hate her.
- Who?
- Eléonore.
- She stole Eddy from you.
- She didn't steal him.
Yeah, sure.
You're disgusting.
Leave me alone
and see to your bottles.
- Is he still there?
- Go see.
- Mr...?
- Michel Jussieu.
What do you want?
- Do you know who I am?
- Yes.
- Can I come in and sit?
- No.
We've all been interrogated.
I have nothing more to say.
Would you like to be
in a movie?
What?
I'm not joking.
Well, sit down.
- Should I leave?
- No!
- Do you smoke?
- No.
- And your friend?
- No.
- Do you mind if I do?
- No.
- Not at all.
- Thanks.
Miss, I'm producing a film.
A musical.
- American-style, you know.
- I see.
I saw you perform today,
and I liked what I saw.
That's all.
That's very nice of you.
Would you like to do a test?
A test?
I need to know
what you can do.
Can I have a picture of you?
This one, for example.
Sure, if you want...
Here. I'll take it.
Write down your name, address,
and phone number.
My secretary will call you
tomorrow or the next day.
Thanks.
Excuse me.
I'll leave you now.
You are charming.
Good evening.
Good evening.
- Good evening.
- Evening, sir.
- Well, darling...
- Shh.
Are you crazy?
- Get out!
- What is it?
- Do you want one too?
- Okay, okay.
- Who is that guy?
- Who?
- The one who just left.
- Are you jealous?
Who is he? Answer me.
He's a producer and wants
me to be in a movie.
Mr. Michel Jussieu, right?
Why ask if you know?
- You believed it?
- What?
- That he liked you?
- I couldn't kick him out.
- But you know who he is.
- Yes.
And you let him in here?
He can send us to jail!
- He didn't ask anything.
- He's not stupid.
So he came here
just for you.
Just for me?
He didn't come to play.
He was respectful.
Respectful? You're
half-naked in here!
- I'm not naked.
- Well, almost.
We all know how
such visits end.
In bed.
You love me, don't you?
So you went to see her
and said:
"Do you want to be
in a movie?"
Yes.
And she said:
"Sure, thank you."
No, she was a bit surprised.
She's not dumb.
She must know what I want.
What do you want?
I didn't go to Play-Boy tonight
to see girls
or to find one
that I liked among them,
you know.
With men, you never know.
I am not "men."
We've lived together
for long enough.
I should be a certain man for you.
Alright.
You're a certain man.
Or rather a very vague man
that I certainly know.
I'm not more jealous of the dancer
than of the starlets
you use in your films.
Me? You think I use them?
You have 15-year-old cuties
that like to be grabbed.
It's fun. That's
the bad guy in you,
the one that misses
his army years.
You're imagining things.
I'm in love with you.
I'm not complaining.
But back to your dancer.
I think what you're doing
is childish.
Elsa.
There's something
that bothers me about all this.
It would be more childish
to deny that.
Michel, if that girl is involved,
she will alert her accomplices.
It's better if she does.
That's what I want.
A nice round of gunshots,
that's what you want.
I want is a glass
of something cold to drink.
- Want anything?
- Yes.
No.
All I want is for you
to go to bed.
Just a minute, madam.
You're reading
Giraudoux now?
- It was the teacher.
- What?
She told us to read it.
Do you understand it?
Of course. We also read
The Infernal Machine.
- By Cocteau?
- By l'Académie française.
She's bold.
She's funny.
She drew the "Spinx" for us.
- Sphinx.
- "Spinx."
- No, sphinx.
- Sphinx.
She drew it like a dog with
a woman's head and breasts.
- What's funny about that?
- The breasts.
- How is your wound?
- Better.
Are the murderers
still out there?
Not for much longer.
So long, my General.
Hey...
did you know she's reading
Giraudoux and Cocteau?
Yes, and it makes sense.
- Does it worry you?
- No.
It should.
The films you produce are
suitable for 8-year-olds.
When those poor kids
go to the movies...
- What?
- They won't be good clients.
- You're aggressive.
- I'm not.
But you're so naive sometimes.
It hasn't stopped.
- What?
- Well, this.
Listen.
"You're too curious.
Watch out for lost bullets."
- Are you seeing Malterer?
- Yes, at 11.30 am.
Tell him about the girl,
the letters, etc.
Why should I?
You're not a detective.
Let Malterer do his job.
My best guarantee
is for them to know
I haven't told
Malterer anything.
Sooner or later, they will
think you did tell him.
- Are you listening to me?
- I'm listening.
No you're not.
It's as if I were singing.
The end of Electra
is beautiful.
"What is it called
when the day breaks
"and everything is
ruined, wrecked,
"when the air is breathable
but you've lost it all,
"when the city burns,
innocent people kill,
"and the guilty agonize
in a corner of the day..."
Ask the bum, he knows.
"That has a name, Narsès,
"it's called daybreak."
Last night, Mr. Jussieu went
to see Eléonore.
- Eléonore?
- Eléonore Germain.
The blonde who presents
the show.
The blonde. Oh, yes. And?
He offered her a movie role.
And?
And then Eddy slapped her.
- Eddy?
- Soulinas, Eléonore's friend.
Right.
So Eddy slapped Mr. Jussieu.
No, he slapped Eléonore
after Jussieu left.
I don't think that's funny
at all, miss.
Don't you think it's a bit strange?
I don't think anything, miss,
I record facts.
- And then?
- That's it.
Are you sure?
- Yes?
- Mr. Jussieu is here.
Ask him to wait a moment.
Are you quite sure you have
nothing to add?
- Yes.
- Okay.
Take her to the room next door
and type up
her spontaneous declaration.
Yes, Chief.
- In writing?
- Yes.
- Oh.
- This way.
Mercier, tell Jussieu to come in.
Yes, Chief.
Sorry I made you wait.
- Don't worry.
- Have a seat.
Mr. Jussieu, I will tell you what
I'm wondering about you.
About me?
I'd like to ask you
3 questions.
Please, go ahead.
Yesterday, you went
to visit Mr. Pierre Malet.
That is correct.
I understand you met him
during the Resistance.
That is quite right.
Malet and you hold
political opinions that are
opposed to Georges Yvain's.
If this was a political crime...
which is the only
valid hypothesis...
Oh, sorry.
Malet has nothing
to do with all this.
I went to see him
to talk about all this,
which worries me.
And now, my 2nd question.
Do you know a man
called de Laborde?
Patrice de Laborde.
He runs Hebdo.
Oh yes, Hebdo.
I must have heard his name.
Did you know that he owns
Play-Boy, not Georges Yvain?
No. How could I have known?
Okay.
3rd question.
Last night, you went to Play-Boy.
- I did.
- Why?
They say killers prowl around
their crime scenes.
What about the victims?
I have a feeling
that the truth lies there, somewhere.
So you're running
a parallel investigation.
Let's not exaggerate.
You went to see
Miss Eléonore Germain
after the show.
I did.
Why?
About a film.
I'm looking for a girl who can
both dance and play a role.
Mr. Jussieu, you told me
you went back to Play-Boy
because you thought the key
to this case was hidden there.
That said...
you went backstage
to meet a dancer
who knew Georges Yvain
very well,
and you want me to believe
it was a professional matter?
I don't "want you to believe."
It's the truth.
I've already interrogated
Miss Eléonore Germain,
as she's Eddy's girlfriend.
Eddy was in charge
of protecting Yvain.
But you didn't recognize her photo,
and she's Soulinas' alibi.
They were out of town
that day.
So I have nothing
against her.
However, if you have discovered
anything in particular about her
it would be... well...
very inconvenient
for our investigation
if you didn't tell us.
Is this a warning?
Is that a confession?
2 opposing questions
cancel each other, Chief.
I don't understand.
If we find out who did it,
we will all be safe.
To step aside is...
To become a suspect
in your eyes.
No.
I knew from the start
that you were innocent.
But your innocence
can become disturbing.
That's a very polite way
to treat me like an idiot.
Let's not play with words.
I just wanted to say this:
It's easier to deal
with good, guilty people,
than with bad innocents.
Mr. Malet is downstairs.
Thank you.
Etienne-Martin,
Petite Demeure.
Are you still
playing detective?
I went back to Play-Boy
last night.
I had an intuition, you know.
A girl who presents the show
caught my attention.
I'm sure she was there
the day of the crime.
You only saw her as a shadow
against the light.
No! It was her voice.
You said she didn't speak.
Listen, a priori,
I don't remember anything,
but something clicked as soon
as I saw her on stage
and heard her voice.
I thought that was
the voice I heard.
So I went to her dressing room
and now I'm even more
convinced it was her.
So she did talk then.
- What about?
- I don't know. I'll remember.
- You want my advice?
- Yes.
If you're 100% certain,
tell Malterer.
That's what Elsa said.
Otherwise, go see her again.
- What would you do?
- I'm not you.
What interests me about this
is the political aspect.
- I'd try to find...
- A scheme.
Laugh if you want, my son...
but that's probably it.
Yes, possibly.
- I'm after something else.
- I know.
What?
What you're after.
I've always known.
Forget it, Michel.
There's no memory, no past.
This is nothing but good literature.
There's only the present,
and the uncertain future.
It's complicated enough as it is.
Our children...
Their only right
is to be badly brought up.
Believe me, Michel,
Elsa is right.
Let Malterer do his job.
Ask him to put you in jail
until he has arrested
everyone else.
This is, in a way,
what follows
from the sequence
I showed you yesterday.
The search continues.
After his first failure,
the narrator...
Yes, you'll see,
he comes to a naked wall
after having crossed
a kind of monk.
The narrator leaves again
and, right at the end
of a narrow street,
he catches a glimpse of a shape,
a character.
That's where the film starts.
Let's see.
Screen it.
You can start.
At this moment,
when the search continues,
we again hear, transposed,
or otherwise disposed,
the text from the other day.
Now it starts from the end.
"Among the damp crowd
of my buried memories,
"as I waited for that scream,
"I walked trembling, watchful,
"lost, patient."
Patrice? Are you Patrice?
Patrice?
Are you Patrice?
"...she lay blind and deaf,
"without a face or heart,
"the child I had left
in the great mansion
"after the fear, the hunger,
"the cold, the night."
It's good.
Very good.
- Do you really think so?
- Oh yes.
It's perfect.
There's nothing to change.
But why that sentence?
What sentence?
She said something
facing the camera.
She didn't say anything.
- You didn't hear it?
- I only heard Simon.
No, on the screen.
There was no sound.
No words.
Of course.
- Do you know Mr. de Laborde?
- No.
Patrice de Laborde,
the manager of Hebdo.
Oh, yes, Hebdo. Yes.
I must have heard of him.
Jean-Marc, you must tell
Miss Eléonore Germain
to come tomorrow at 11.
Longchamp 63 58.
- Do you like them?
- Very much.
You have no idea how important it is
to have nice feet.
But I do know.
You're elsewhere.
I'm sorry. You're right.
Don't be sorry.
We all have our troubles.
You're wonderful.
No, I'm just kind.
But I haven't changed
my mind about your case.
Tell Malterer.
- Even after what I told you?
- What? That strange story?
I'm sure I'm not mistaken.
Maybe.
- The girl said "Patrice."
- Yes.
Patrice de Laborde is the man
who came in and hit you.
Then what?
Don't you find that weird?
Not really.
I want to keep
playing detective.
- Laborde was Yvain's friend.
- Yes.
Someone called to tell him
about his friend.
Of course he went there.
But why knock me out?
Maybe he took you
for the murderer.
Just like that?
Without proof?
- What do you think?
- I think Laborde knows.
No! I mean the dress.
What dress?
2 darts here... look.
And a wide belt.
A naked shoulder...
Wonderful idea.
Isn't it?
Go see Malterer.
If you don't, I will tell Dad.
If you tell your father,
I will leave you.
- Like this?
- That's...
If it's Mom, I'm asleep.
- Hello?
- Mr. Jussieu?
- Yes, it's me.
- You could be dead tomorrow.
- Who is this?
- You could be dead tomorrow.
Hello?
Well, it seems like I'll be...
Michel, are you coming?
I'll do a dance for you.
I'll be right back.
Yes, Elsa was wonderful,
carefree, light,
futile, coquettish.
She only worried about
her beauty, face and body.
Michel had loved her
for being so carefree,
so light, so futile,
and so coquettish.
Once married, she'd given him
the greatest proof of love:
Not to change.
She had married him,
but not become his wife.
She had given birth,
but not become a mother.
Her seeming indifference
to Michel's worries
was a great relief to him.
She proved to him
that life went on.
While Michel fought
his own ghosts and enigmas,
Elsa, a sophisticated flower,
a greedy lover,
prepared her Arabian dance
for her sultan.
"She perceived a shadow
before her
"and nervously asked:
"'Manfred, is it you?'
"There was no answer.
The shadow seemed gone.
"She crosses the scene
towards the other side.
"The same shadow awaits her,
indecisive, floating.
"With a pale voice,
"she again asks:
'Manfred, is it...?'"
Go on.
No. What do you want from me?
Yes, you do know.
I know you asked your friends'
permission to come here.
What are you talking about?
You know!
You can no longer deny it.
- Go tell your friends!
- What friends?
Those who are so sad
about Yvain's death.
Tell them to leave me alone.
I'm amnesiac.
I didn't see or hear anything.
- You're mad.
- My patience has its limits.
If they've something to say,
let them do so!
It's 11 am. I will see
Chief Malterer at 4 pm.
I'd like to hear from you
before then.
You know how to reach me.
Do you still make
Cologne Impériale for men?
Not since the war started.
What a pity.
Anything like it?
I don't think so.
I will ask Mr. Philibert.
- Hello.
- Sir.
Sorry, we don't make it anymore.
What a pity.
If you're interested
in our old perfumes,
we've recently made
a few bottles.
Maybe you can come by
next week.
They'll be ready on Tuesday.
I'll be delighted to...
- I'll come by. See you.
- Good bye.
Goodbye, miss.
What is it with you?
Lee, call my father
on the phone.
Right away, madam.
Excuse me, sir.
I thought you had gone out.
No, I'm here.
What is it?
Your wife called you.
She didn't want to bother you.
She's eating with her father.
Her father?
You can call him
at Invalides...
- I wrote it down.
- I know it.
Thanks, Victoire.
Michel knew that Elsa
had had it.
He knew she'd tell
her father everything,
and that he would
call Malterer,
who would take
the necessary measures
to keep the minister's
son-in-law
from compromising
the old man's political position.
Michel knew that Elsa
had fought for long
before coming to that.
She didn't like to get
involved in such things.
Something must have happened,
or maybe she just
refused to compromise,
and despise gratuitous
madness and Quixotism.
- Dad?
- Yes?
- What are you thinking about?
- About you.
You always say that
when I ask you.
Because it's true.
I like girls, so it's normal
for me to think about my own.
- And Mom?
- I think about her too.
I like women, so it's normal...
- To think about your own.
- That's right.
Sir, it's for you.
- It's Miss Germain.
- I'm coming.
Yes, it's me.
At 3 pm?
At your house?
Trust me. This is not a trap.
I do trust you.
Well, thank you.
I'll be waiting, then.
Where do you live?
15 bis, avenue de Chambure.
The die had been cast.
Now nothing could
abolish chance.
With angst, Michel knew
that the time to make
choices was over.
- Making progress?
- Yes.
We're having a championship.
I'm training.
I see.
- Let me light it.
- Sure.
Thanks.
Dad, tell me a story.
- A story?
- Yes. A funny one.
I don't know many stories.
Come on, think.
Well...
Oh, yes! I read one recently.
- Is it funny?
- I think it is.
- Lee, bring my coffee here.
- Yes, sir.
Well, go on!
Right.
A man was having lunch
with his daughter.
Just like you and me.
The man wanted to know
if the girl knew History,
so he talked to her
about the French Revolution.
And since the girl
was not interested,
the man got angry and said:
"You've never heard
of Louis XVI?"
"No," said the girl.
- "And Marie Antoinette?"
- "No."
- "Danton?"
- "No."
- "Robespierre?"
- "Oh, I know him.
"Robespierre
and Jean-Marc Thibault."
I knew you wouldn't
find it funny.
That's so stupid.
Don't you know Roger Pierre
and J-M. Thibault?
No.
What about Robespierre?
He's the man who cut
everyone's heads off.
Thanks.
- I want my sugar cube.
- Take it.
- Oh gosh...
- "I really have to go."
- Don't you have school?
- No.
I have gym until 4 pm
and Mom told me not to go.
- Why?
- I don't know.
Well...
Have fun.
- I was scared I'd miss you!
- What's wrong?
Michel.
We have to talk.
- Don't worry, honey. I know.
- What do you know?
That you told your father
everything at lunch.
- Did he call you?
- No.
I just felt it.
- Michel, it's...
- For my own good, yes.
I'm not complaining.
One must always act
according to one's duty.
Oh, Michel...
- Michel, I love you.
- Yes, I know.
Me too.
- None of this matters.
- It does.
- Dad said to be careful.
- How kind of him.
Politically disastrous,
but still very kind.
Let me come with you.
No way. I'm going to see
Germain and then Malterer.
- Let me come along.
- Calm down.
Let's meet up later, huh?
I'll go to Pierre's at 5 pm.
Call me at the gallery...
and we'll decide
where to have dinner.
I'll call you.
- Michel.
- What?
- Michel, be careful.
- I will be.
See you later.
Hello?
- Eléonore?
- Yes.
- Luco here. Michel just left.
- Right.
It's Luco.
Michel just left his house.
Good.
Tell him to meet me
at the agreed spot.
- Hello?
- Yes?
Meet Patrice
at the agreed spot.
- At the agreed spot?
- Yes.
Okay.
He'll be here in 5 minutes.
I'll be in the car with Eddy.
I can see this window
from there.
If it works, lower the curtain
when he's left.
I'll understand.
Okay?
Okay.
I'm counting on you, Eléonore.
Please be smart, for 2.
And...
change your clothes
for something a little sexier.
Earn time!
He'll come. It'll work.
- If she does that...
- You idiot.
This is all your fault.
I don't care!
She's mine.
I don't want him touching her.
- If she does it...
- Shut up.
Hello.
Come in.
Am I too early?
No.
- Something to drink?
- No, thanks.
Are we alone?
You can trust me.
I have no choice.
You know this is a matter
of life...
or death for you.
No.
I don't think so.
It's normal for Laborde to try
to intimidate me,
I understand.
He must think I've talked
to other people.
If he kills me, he'll have
to kill them as well.
He's tried to intimidate me
for a few days...
and that's fine.
That's how it is.
But now, he wants to talk.
Well, okay.
But, before that,
tell me something.
What?
What's the real story
of Mr. Yvain's death?
I don't know it.
Let me help you.
Yvain was in trouble.
Why was he bailed out?
No reason.
They were in the same...
In the same what?
I don't know.
In the same group?
The same scheme?
I don't know.
I don't like politics.
A kind of organization.
Yes.
A kind of political
organization.
Okay.
Laborde is the boss.
I think so.
I'm sure of it.
What else?
Laborde and Yvain
were not getting along.
Why?
I think Yvain was
in too much trouble...
so he was asked to leave.
For South America, I think.
- And he didn't want to?
- No.
- He didn't want to retire.
- Don't worry, I understand.
They then decided to kill him.
How could he not have
suspected anything?
What Yvain ignored was
that Eddy had betrayed him
long before.
Eddy, your fiancé?
I thought he was
his bodyguard.
Yvain thought so too.
He didn't know Eddy had moved
to Patrice's side.
I followed the movement too,
because of Eddy.
Without really knowing
what it was about.
And then what?
One day,
Patrice sent Luco
to talk to Yvain once more.
Yvain, it's a reasonable offer.
I'm not leaving!
I won't give up
after 10 years of fighting.
If you don't leave voluntarily...
What? Will you kill me?
Is this a threat?
Yvain, be reasonable!
You're making fun of me!
I will not have it!
Tell Laborde I've fought
many of his kind.
He's wrong if he thinks
he's in charge.
If one of us can kill
the other,
I will kill him first!
Killed by chance.
Pierre was right.
Excuse me?
Forget it.
Did you all get nervous?
A bit, yes.
Luco called Patrice,
and he said he'd be there
right away.
He told us to be ready
to move the body.
I was waiting for Patrice.
I heard a noise.
Patrice?
Is it you, Patrice?
It's very satisfying
to come full circle.
- Yes?
- Are you okay?
Yes. In a minute.
Are your friends impatient?
Yes.
Okay, here is what
I'm supposed to offer.
If you don't talk,
if you don't tell anyone,
you'll be left alone.
What guarantee do you have
that I won't talk?
This.
What is it?
It's an antedated letter
from you to Yvain.
You must copy it
in your own hand.
Funny.
- Okay, it worked.
- Did it?
I'm not saying it's over,
but at least we bought time.
She couldn't have done it.
- I'm going to kill them...
- No, you won't.
Stay here.
I'll go see Eléonore.
- I'll come with you.
- No, wait here.
You're all bastards!
Don't make me angry.
Just do as I said.
Give it here.
- What for?
- Give me it.
It'll take me 5 minutes.
He didn't sign it?
He won't talk.
- He didn't sign!
- But he won't talk!
Fortunately, that idiot
is not armed.
Sir, I would have preferred
not to have to come to this,
but we can't keep
playing around.
You told your wife...
I know.
She talked to her father,
and he told you everything.
Thank you for making it
easy for me.
Let me ask you...
Have you met Miss Germain
several times?
Yes.
I had suspicions about her.
But I was wrong.
She knows nothing.
She's not a part of this.
I'm sorry, but I don't believe you.
Mr. Jussieu...
I know a lot of things.
Let's help each other.
I've gone through this
before in my life.
It's never done me any good.
I can tell you a lot
about Patrice de Laborde.
I'm not interested.
Do your job, Chief,
and don't ask me to do one
that's not mine.
Do you know of the existence
of Penal Code Article 62,
which condemns
non-denunciation?
I know it.
I don't want you to think
this is a threat.
I'm just pointing out
your responsibilities.
Why are you protecting
these people,
who mean nothing to you?
I'm not asking you
to accuse anyone,
but to testify. Just that.
Chief, I recently read a novel
in which I read these words:
"To give in,
is to give in to everything."
So?
So, that's it.
To give in is to give up.
So he's still trying
to never give up...
If you don't need me anymore...
I can't keep you here.
I don't have that power.
Mercier!
Call Laborde, Eddy,
Eléonore and Georges Luco.
Keep them here
until tomorrow.
I will question them
before noon.
If you need me for anything,
call Bartez.
October 30, 1961,
4.30 pm.
Michel Jussieu knows once more
that courage is a simple
and serious thing.
He is finally free and happy.
Michel!
THE END
Subtitles: ECLAIR