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