Z (1969) - full transcript

In a mid-sized metropolis (population 500,000) in a right-wing military led country, a pacifist organization, which supports the opposition party in the government, is planning on holding an anti-military, nuclear disarmament rally. The organization's charismatic leader - the deputy - is scheduled to arrive in the town from the capital the day of the rally. Beyond the problems arranging the rally due to the probable incitement of violence at such a rally, the organization learns of an unconfirmed report that there will be an attempt on the deputy's life. The rally does happen, after which a three-wheeled kamikaze runs over the deputy, who eventually passes away from his injuries. The official report is that the incident was a drunken accident. In reality, the deputy's death was murder orchestrated by the secret police, the general for who likens the pacifist organization to mildew killing off agricultural crops. A magistrate is assigned to the case. Although he does have political views, he is more interested in finding out the truth, and as such has to wade through the political rhetoric and politically motivated testimony he hears. Thrown into the mix is a photojournalist who too is looking for the truth, as it, he believes, will make a great front page story.

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Mildew is prevented

by spraying vines

with a solution of copper sulfate.

There are two standard remedies:

Bordeaux mixture and Burgundy mixture,

named after the French province

famous for its wines.

The vines are sprayed

three times a year:

First, when shoots

are about five inches long,

second, just before

or after the blossoms appear,

and the third time,

a month later.

Spraying is preventive and thus essential.

Gentlemen, I conclude

on how to fight mildew.

May I remind you:

As in previous years,

planes and leaflets

will be at your disposal.

The leaflets remind

peasants that mildew,

which infects the vines,

first appeared

together with the ideological malady

that infects humanity.

On this matter, I give the floor

to the chief of military police.

ANY SIMILARITY TO REAL PERSONS

AND EVENTS IS NOT COINCIDENTAL.

IT IS INTENTIONAL.

As the deputy minister

of agriculture explained,

three sprayings are required

to prevent mildew.

As with mildew,

this ideological disease

must be fought preventively.

It is caused

by harmful germs

and various parasites.

So the spraying of humans

with appropriate mixtures

is indispensable.

Schools, in this case,

constitute the first stage.

That is where,

if you'll excuse the metaphor,

young shoots have not yet

reached four or five inches.

The second spraying

is just before or after blossoming.

I refer to universities

and young workers.

Military service

is the best time to protect

the sacred tree of national liberty

against infection

from ideological mildew.

This year, leaflets are

being dropped by air

to inform our peasantry

of the ideological mildew

threatening our country.

This new variety,

more diffuse and insidious,

is a crafty enemy

that is growing away

from God and the crown.

It is against this enemy

in particular

that our preventive action

is aimed.

No need to take notes.

It's all in the circular.

With the outbreak of such "isms"

as socialism, anarchism,

imperialism, communism, etc.,

sunspots began to swarm

across the face of the diurnal orb.

God casts no light on the Reds.

Scientists have announced

a major increase in sunspots

since the advent

of beatniks, Provos,

and, most of all, pacifist tendencies

from Italy, France and Scandinavia.

As the chief of law and order

in the north,

I use this occasion to address

you high-ranking civil servants.

We must preserve

the healthy parts of our society

and heal the infected parts.

Tonight the enemy

will meet in our city.

But our system is not an "ism."

This is a democracy.

We shall not ban their meeting,

but neither shall we forbid

those who don't think like them

from demonstrating.

It is with these healthy parts,

these antibodies,

that we must combat

and eradicate all diseases,

those of the vine

and those of society.

That's all I have to say.

Bear all this in mind

in the days to come.

- Lunch with me?

- A quick one.

Then I'll take you to your plane.

- That's kind of you.

- My pleasure.

Tell my wife

I'll pick her up tonight.

Mr. Head of Security?

The Bolshoi ballerinas

are visiting our city.

From Moscow?

The Bolshoi is here for four days.

Tonight is the premiere.

Stay over. I have a box.

I must be in the capital.

The capital... the palace.

The palace thinks highly of you.

It would be funny

if one of them defected here.

Like that famous dancer...

Oh, no. None of that.

Defectors prefer London or the U.S.,

countries with strong currency.

Our city has enough hotheads

who give us headaches.

Stop! Take that down.

We don't need a permit

for an indoor meeting.

I don't care! I don't want trouble.

Get a permit, or no hall.

Do as I say!

This is my hall.

Get a permit,

or find another place.

Take it down.

How do we find a hall now

and inform thousands of people

coming from all over town?

- I didn't know the topic.

- It was on your receipt.

Not anymore.

Here's your check.

I'll pay damages.

If you don't mind...

- They threatened you.

- I don't know what you mean.

You don't cancel a rental

unless you're under pressure.

You lawyers...

Mr. Bozini, you're an honest man.

Who's behind all this?

What's the real reason?

Leave me alone!

I don't want you is all.

If you don't like it, lump it.

- We should be the ones upset.

My father died today, okay?

I'd gladly rent it to you again,

but we had an inspection

by the city.

When?

Yesterday.

The seats have to comply.

I'll bring some kids

to set them up today.

They have to be bolted to the floor.

That takes a week.

They were never bolted before.

We either cancel

or meet outside.

And without a permit.

That'd mean agitators,

club-wielding cops, wounded.

We won't find a hall.

They'll all refuse.

I say we cancel.

He'd never agree.

We cancel

and go quietly off to bed.

Better yet,

we all attend the Bolshoi.

And we take him to the Bolshoi,

and send his audience to the Bolshoi.

You know a hall?

The Bolshoi.

They plan to murder the doctor.

- Says who?

- My wife.

Who told you?

None of my business?

What do we tell the police?

Wait, don't hang up.

She won't say. The person didn't know

the doctor's due today.

This is Georges Pirou.

You must tell us who...

Out of the question.

I trust him. He didn't know

about tonight's meeting.

He overheard a conversation.

He won't tell you. Nor will I.

He's already had trouble.

He has a family.

Now they know.

Now you know,

so do something.

Back to you.

I know, darling.

See you later.

So... what do we do?

We call the Red Cross.

The prosecutor.

Admit it's all vague.

An anonymous informant,

a conversation overheard

somewhere.

Maybe it's a practical joke,

or a crackpot.

Like those people who phone

about a bomb on a plane.

Who'd want to kill your leader?

Marie, get the door, please.

Let's go.

I'll call the head of security.

He'll provide protection,

unofficially.

We have no grounds

for any action.

Yes, you can be prosecutor

and appreciate the Paris Commune.

Ah, my friend!

Niki!

- Sorry I'm late.

- I'll just be a minute.

Coming to the theater with us?

As for a hall,

I can't help you...

The colonel.

Property rights

are still protected here,

even if some people

may want to change that.

About time.

- Yes, Papa?

- Niki, see to our guest.

Just a minute.

One of our finest magistrates.

He's out?

Give me his duty officer.

You know about tonight?

I don't mean the Bolshoi.

Exactly. There was a threat

on the doctor's life.

No, but he's due to arrive...

- Shortly.

He'll be here shortly.

On the phone.

As you say.

Inform the colonel.

'All vague. "

"No grounds for action."

They think it's a publicity stunt.

The doctor will be furious that

we asked these sellouts for protection.

- Sellouts?

- To the Americans.

What do they have

to do with this?

Always blame the Americans.

Even if you're wrong.

Cut it out.

You're not always funny.

See who that is?

There they are.

Police?

So it seems. They've been

tailing me for three days.

Everything set for tonight?

No. We lost our hall,

and nobody even knows it.

They're out to sabotage

the meeting, Doctor.

Who can fix it?

Only the head of security.

We'll see him after lunch.

Let's go now.

Back to the hotel.

Your life's been threatened.

Some guy overheard talk about it.

We'll ask the police to...

- To do nothing. It looks bad.

We just talk about a hall.

Gentlemen,

we have a problem.

This hall doesn't comply

with safety standards.

There were shows there

just two weeks ago, sir.

Here's the report.

There's no emergency exit.

It never had one.

Counselor,

with a normal show,

there's no danger.

But a meeting

can get people worked up.

Our meeting presents no danger.

I have no reason

to stop your meeting.

The reports

of competent services

dictate my decisions.

I'm neutral in this affair.

Then why are we being tailed?

For your safety.

The minister of the interior

issued orders

to protect

your committee members

from possible extremist attacks.

Extremists under your control.

Mr. Deputy...

other halls meet safety standards.

Like the Employees' Union Hall

opposite your hotel.

You only have

to cross the square.

I'm neutral in this affair.

Believe me.

Fine, Colonel.

There it is,

on the second floor.

A tiny space

for no more than 200 people.

We'll look pathetic. In a city

of 500,000, only 200 will hear you.

The others stay outside.

It's pathetic.

Ask the colonel to let us use the square

and hang loudspeakers in the trees.

Permit or no permit,

we'll have a turnout.

We'll be going now.

We'll try to contact supporters

going to the Picadilly.

Print up flyers

about the change in venue.

Manuel,

let's discuss my speech.

Georges, you too.

I'll hold.

Hello, darling.

How are you?

Fine. Just fine.

Problems with the hall, as usual.

Why would there be fighting?

I said,

why would there be fighting?

Yes, tomorrow.

Georges sends his love.

See you tomorrow, honey.

How are the kids?

Fine, but I don't

see them enough.

And H?l?ne?

We have our problems.

We've grown apart somewhat,

but it's nothing.

We have a saying:

"A hungry bear

doesn't dance."

The bears won't dance.

They'll read this.

Your pen.

MEETING MOVED TO UNION HALL

Get going.

Hold your meetings in Russia!

If you don't mind,

we'd rather stay here!

Do as you're told!

Hey, you.

What's the idea?

- Ignore them.

- More fun than the Bolshoi.

Call that fun?

I'm only doing you a favor.

- Your Russians are old hat.

Except when one defects.

And the Warsaw Pact?

We're against the bomb,

Russian or American.

Disarmament!

Long live the bomb!

No more foreign bases!

You can always sell 'em

to The Daily Worker.

- They're blas?.

- So are these guys.

No more NATO bases!

Keep calm!

Don't provoke them!

You're too easy on them!

Don't bother with them.

Calm down!

Don't provoke them!

Counselor!

You have to start now.

The hall is full.

- Squeeze 'em in.

- Get the speakers.

Do we start?

- I'll go get them.

Go on in.

Forget about them.

Go on in.

We'll crush you like slugs!

Trash!

- It's all clear now.

- Who is it?

The new face of the opposition.

Young people and women go for him.

Communist?

No way.

He's against foreign influence.

The next elections are his.

He's got presence.

Ex-Olympic champion, doctor, academic

and honest politician. Perfection!

He's at the Bolshoi too.

He has to cancel the meeting.

- Sure, chicken out.

- It's to avoid any provocation.

- The students can keep order.

- They're asking for a fight.

You and your nonviolence!

Our strength lies

in respecting the law.

The law of the jungle.

We shouldn't have

taken this hall.

It's a set-up.

A set-up by whom?

We want foreign bases dismantled.

It's the CIA.

Aren't you going too far

over some stubborn extremists?

- And the death threats?

- It's not the first time.

We all know the risks.

No one.

All at the Bolshoi.

Keep trying.

The police have responsibilities.

We're going to our meeting.

Politicians! All corrupt!

Cowards!

We'll send you to your graves!

We'll kill you all!

Down with the police state!

Stay outside.

- Who are you?

- I'm a mason.

I'm all right.

We can start.

They struck me.

Why?

Why do the ideas we stand for

incite such violence?

Why is peace

intolerable to them?

Why don't they attack

other organizations and movements?

The answer is simple.

The other movements are national,

for domestic purposes,

and thus leave

our allies indifferent...

Sir, we can't control them.

We have to stop this.

I'll have the loudspeakers cut off.

It'll excite the others.

Out of the question.

Where are your superiors?

The colonel?

I was told he was here.

He must be

somewhere over there.

We lack hospitals and doctors,

but half the budget

goes for military expenditures.

Long live the army!

Come out, you cowards!

It's him!

Defend yourself, you coward!

A single cannon is fired

and a teacher's monthly salary

goes up in smoke.

That's why they cannot

tolerate this meeting

or our presence

and employ hired thugs

to shout us down and attack us.

Worldwide, there are

too many soldiers ready to fire

at the slightest display

of progress.

That your man?

- That's what they said.

- Is it him?

- They said it was.

- That runt, an Olympic champ?

Turn it off!

Finish him off.

It's not him!

- I told you it wasn't.

- They said it was.

Take off!

I'll go around to avoid the cops.

Out-of-season tomatoes.

They cost a fortune.

- What?

- Fix your muffler.

I can't even make

the monthly payments.

Salaried workers without pay,

confined to this subproletariat

where they are manipulated...

Shit! The cops!

They'll never know

that our struggle is theirs too,

for we live in a weak

and corrupt society

where it's every man for himself.

It's blocked off here too.

Get down.

Even imagination is suspect,

yet it is required

to solve the problems of our planet,

where the destructive power

of stockpiled nuclear warheads

equals a ton of dynamite

for each person.

One-track mind!

They want to prevent us

from reaching

the obvious political conclusions

based on these simple truths.

But we will speak.

We serve the people,

and the people require the truth.

No photos.

Send them back to the Bolshoi.

The truth is the start

of powerful, united action.

Clear these hoodlums out.

Down with the police state!

No more foreign bases!

Mr. Chief of Police!

Mr. Head of Security!

What are you waiting for?

Watch out!

Throw him off!

It's my cousin.

He fell off.

Get his feet.

I saw you hit him.

- What's that?

- What's the problem?

I hit the brake and my cousin fell out.

He's bleeding and needs first aid.

Your papers.

Just a second.

How stupid of me.

He's bleeding.

He needs first aid.

He hit him.

He has a club there.

See? Nothing serious.

And this? Move it.

He meant to kill him.

Fathead!

- And my three-wheeler?

- No one will touch it.

Call the station

for a patrol car.

Sure, call the station.

Stay over there.

Come here.

I'll run for it.

Pretend you're trying to catch me.

I can't explain.

I gotta go.

Just play dumb.

One move and I'll hit you.

What time is it?

I got a date I can't miss.

The regime

couldn't change that.

I mean it.

Russians all want

to live like Americans.

Come quickly, sir.

It's serious.

Come with me.

See you later.

Mr. Prosecutor.

We'll discuss it later.

I missed the ballet

because of all this.

- Why wasn't I informed earlier?

- During the show? How?

- What happened?

- A stupid traffic accident.

- The culprit?

- We'll have him soon enough.

- The victim's condition?

- We're waiting for news.

I'll go.

I'll take your car.

Be my guest.

Has the press

heard about it yet?

I don't think so.

Let's go.

I must call the minister.

Editorial offices.

What happened to you?

There was a demonstration.

We taught the bastards a lesson.

They can't stop them from meeting

or keep us from reacting either.

It's like a biological process.

You see...

we're society's healthy elements,

its antibodies.

We gave 'em hell.

What do you want from me?

Write...

that I was there

with the guys that thrashed 'em.

But why?

For my pals... so they know.

If you want.

But get over to the hospital.

And check in, so they know

both sides were hurt.

Go now and I'll get

your name in the lead.

We warned you, but no,

it was a practical joke

or a crackpot.

- Not now!

No, now you have

an assassination on your hands.

The police have proof

it was an accident.

We need their help.

You'll put us in a bind

with unfounded accusations.

They're blind. Or worse...

accomplices.

Calling it an accident

without proof.

- Attempted murder?

- Who are you?

I saw it all.

I was there taking photos.

Photos of the three-wheeler?

No, I missed it.

The cops ejected us.

What cynicism!

They'll use the incident politically.

- Predictable.

- They know how to make martyrs.

Those necrophiliacs!

- Let's hope he doesn't die.

That would suit them.

It's dreadful.

The brain is damaged in two

or three places. We're operating.

His heart is holding up,

but it's too early to tell.

But you must!

He can't hear you.

Can't you see

the political repercussions?

But the other victim

is out of danger.

What other victim?

Deputy Georges Pirou.

He was found in the street.

It's serious,

but he'll be all right.

Two deputies hurt.

The police behaved scandalously.

I must phone the minister.

Where can I call in private?

This way.

They must have told his wife.

I don't listen in.

I'm sure you don't.

It's true.

When does she arrive?

Tomorrow, on the first flight.

Tomorrow... meaning today.

It's for my paper.

So what did she say?

Nothing at first.

I heard her breathing.

Then she said,

"Will he live?"

The director couldn't answer.

Then she said,

"So they finally got him."

Were you there tonight?

I'm a reporter.

No, wait!

The police bungled it.

They should have prevented all this.

Two deputies hurt, one critically.

We have the culprit.

Where?

I want to see him.

Come with me.

He's in the canteen.

- The canteen?

- The cells are in bad shape.

No electricity.

The funds are pending, as usual.

So we use them for storage.

I just spoke to the minister.

This could be politically disastrous.

If the press hears

he's lazing about in a canteen!

The minister wants

a minute-by-minute update.

Not even handcuffed?

His son?

- No, a street peddler.

- Was he alone?

- No, there were two.

We have the other's address.

He was asleep in the back

during the accident.

He gave himself up?

No, arrested for a minor offense...

drunk driving. You'll get a report.

Exhale.

No trace of alcohol.

- It's the stew.

It's a fact that

mutton stew kills odors.

What were you doing until now?

Making stew.

He's been here for hours

and you've kept it from me?

I didn't know.

I only found out later.

You weren't informed?

How long have you been here?

Since 10:30 or 11:00 pm.

That's harboring a criminal!

You hid him from me.

You knew about it, Colonel?

I knew,

but I didn't have time

to inform the general.

Then you arrived.

When the general said

we didn't have the culprit,

I didn't dare contradict him.

Very well.

Find me an office.

I'll take his statement myself.

Arrest the other culprit.

Eat up.

They're in the pressroom.

Now what?

Since when do you wear glasses?

To avoid being recognized.

Take my name off the list.

The guy's dying.

- Where do you fit into all this?

- Nowhere.

It was an accident.

Two drunks in a three-wheeler.

If my name's in the paper,

I'll be questioned. I'd rather not be.

Okay, I'll take it out.

Now go.

What are you up to now?

No, I can't.

I'm busy.

You have to go.

That way.

No one move!

What do they want now?

To start trouble.

But we're reasonable.

We refuse.

Why is it always

our people who get killed?

He's alive.

He's clinically dead.

Why dream?

"Clinically dead," they said.

His brain is dead,

but his heart's beating.

It won't give up.

Just say the word

and they'll tear up the town.

Why hold them back?

I wonder if we have any fight left.

He had plenty.

That's why they killed him.

Us they leave alone.

Come on.

It's all I could find.

The morning papers.

The police blame us for the clashes.

Coffee?

"Broadcasting the speech

was a provocation.

The antinational tone

and the attack on foreign policy

immediately roused the crowd.

Hence the climate of violence.

The police performed

their duty with serenity.

Thirteen officers were injured

in the course of duty."

So said the general to the press.

We have to respond.

Yes, and stress the pacifist nature

and calm of our meeting.

We had permission.

So the police could sabotage it.

But we have no proof of that.

- We have plenty.

- Nothing concrete.

We can only deplore police

passivity and ineffectiveness.

Only later can we exploit

the flaws politically.

Why not call in the Red Cross

or the Human Rights Commission?

That's a crybaby defense.

We have to go

after those responsible.

- Take up arms in the streets?

- Why not?

- What nonsense.

- Intolerable.

- What we could do...

- We have to remain within the law.

- We have been for years.

- It's no time to change.

We must exploit this.

- It mustn't turn against us.

- Exactly.

Aren't you ashamed?

He's dying 10 feet from here.

We have no valid case

against them.

We have that death threat

yesterday.

He ignored it too.

But that was yesterday.

And today?

Will your man talk now?

A statement to the press.

I doubt it.

He was already

scared of reprisals.

Now even more so.

Try. Can you find him?

Not before noon.

We have to be careful.

They're watching our every move.

It's them, all right.

They're watching over us.

We can feel as safe as the doctor.

What was your reaction

to the news?

Did the American president

really send a telegram?

What did he say?

Are you a perfect couple?

Was he threatened?

Will you let the Communists

use your husband's name?

Was this a murder attempt?

Why did you call in

a British surgeon?

Were you really divorcing?

Was it an accident?

They're operating

for the third time.

Here's the hospital director.

This is the hospital director.

Your husband's had an accident.

Nana!

I knew your husband.

We were in school together.

I wanted to take part

in his peace marathon,

but since it was banned,

I couldn't.

It's serious,

but he'll make it.

Professor Dodd

is here from London.

One of England's top surgeons.

He's optimistic.

Tell the parents the truth?

They'll have time for that later.

The fracture caused by the fall

ruptured the cranial vault.

There's no doubt

the brain mass has been affected.

The shock was very violent,

causing an explosion inside the skull,

a sort of cerebral earthquake.

I can't evaluate

the physical and mental effects

of this concussion,

even if the operation succeeds.

The third operation is underway.

The only positive side

is his cardiac resistance.

When he came in, we did heart massage.

Adrenaline shots too.

His heart

has incredible resistance.

It's beating regularly...

Madam...

General Missou,

chief of military police.

A stupid accident

we all deplore.

The head of security.

We have the culprit,

a drunken thug.

The prosecutor.

My sympathies, madam.

The magistrate.

As I was saying,

certain areas of the brain

could be relatively affected.

These lesions aren't yet clear.

But the surgeons are optimistic.

We must await the end

of the third operation.

Your husband has

an exceptional heart.

If it holds out, he'll live.

There's every reason to hope.

A phone call

from the minister himself.

They'll exploit his wife,

play on people's emotions.

They're good at it.

The files.

Their committee secretary.

I want summaries of each.

Details of their private lives.

Their jobs too.

By tonight.

The injured deputy.

The other lawyer.

And his file?

It just came in.

Any other women?

I don't know, but probably.

Destroy his character.

Does he get along with his wife?

- She being watched?

- Like the others, sir.

We have two photographers...

- I'm not interested.

The others?

They met this morning,

picked up his wife at the airport,

then separated.

One group took her to the hospital.

As for him...

He delivered a press release.

You should have a copy.

Then he met

with some university students.

Students!

Contact our students.

That one's a mad dog.

He'll make the most of it. No shame.

- A Jew, naturally.

- A half-Jew.

Worst kind. They feel superior

even to other Jews.

- The prosecutor is here.

- Send him in.

Follow him night and day.

Come in.

We were expecting you.

- This second culprit?

- We have him.

He turned himself in today.

Come into my office.

Please sit down.

He's in charge now.

It's official.

Give him the file

containing your initial findings,

then follow his instructions.

My deputy will report to me.

The colonel's men inquired...

When can I question

the second culprit?

Whenever you like.

It seems he was asleep in the back

of the three-wheeler, dead drunk,

so he's innocent,

if it all checks out.

Their whereabouts earlier?

I have the driver's statement.

Here's his photo.

It seems they'd been out drinking

at the Chinaman's bar.

There are Chinese merchants

in our city?

The owner fought in Korea

in a volunteer battalion,

so he's called the Chinaman.

He confirms their statements.

And this is his.

I'll read it.

"I, Bertrand... aka the Chinaman,

bar owner, etc...

do hereby declare

that on May 22 of this year

Yago and Vago

entered my bar at 7:00 p.m.

And remained until 10:00 p.m.

I saw them start

with several glasses of anisette..."

It's not allowed, madam.

Thirteenth witness... a dockhand.

"I saw Vago and Yago

drinking all evening.

By the time they left at 10:00 p.m.,

they were drunk.

The Chinaman said,

'Leave the kamikaze."'

Kamikaze?

A three-wheel hauler.

Japanese model.

This is like the Far East.

I think it's clear enough.

Though we lack

background on the culprits,

the theory of an accident

seems valid.

I agree.

Besides, the minister phoned

and wants this settled quickly

to cut short

political speculation abroad.

I think my office

must make a statement today

about the accident

and say that the culprits are in jail

on charges of drunken driving

and assault and battery.

And hit-and-run.

Naturally.

And find out who drove him

to the clinic.

It's for you, sir.

He just died.

That doesn't change

the terms of your statement.

Simply replace

"assault and battery"

with "manslaughter."

Don't bother, Shoula.

I'll wait for you downstairs.

Who are you?

I admired your husband.

I'm a reporter.

No photos!

Just a few questions.

The public...

the people

have the right to know.

Why do you think

it wasn't an accident?

There was a death threat yesterday.

You knew about it?

You expected it, didn't you?

You said,

"So they finally got him."

What did I say?

You told the hospital director,

"So they finally got him."

Who are "they"?

Leave me alone.

The culprits have been arrested.

That's who you meant?

Go away.

Unmask the murderers!

They know already?

Yes, and it's only the start.

Police, accomplice!

I don't understand.

The fall didn't kill him?

Absolutely not.

The skull was fractured

by a blow to the head.

That's our conclusion.

The fall only caused

minor contusions.

Are you sure?

A blow? The collision

with the three-wheeler?

The vehicle hit his body.

The fatal blow was to the head.

It could only have been made

by a club,

an iron bar or a pistol butt.

No one said anything

about a weapon.

Continue, Doctor.

The skull fracture was caused

by a weapon striking from above.

That explains

the symmetrical brain lesions

on the area underneath

and opposite the wound.

Our autopsy revealed lesions

and a right cerebral hemorrhage,

whereas the fracture

occurred in the left temporal bone.

Had the shock

resulted from a fall

on a hard surface

like the street,

such lesions wouldn't exist.

Why weren't we told sooner?

- Sooner?

- Like yesterday.

Yesterday he was still alive, sir.

Before any autopsy.

Other tests would have shown

the same results.

Another theory:

He was dragged by the three-wheeler,

and his skull struck the curb.

We know the collision took place

in the middle of the street.

In any case,

no fall could cause this.

May I make a call?

Yago was driving.

The other man was drunk.

Too drunk for such an accurate blow.

A demonstrator?

Their story doesn't hold.

- You know them well?

- Very well.

Are they activists?

Maybe.

- Communists?

- Not if they work here.

Part of the opposition?

You can never tell.

The general, please.

I wanted to see you, sir,

to clear up a few points.

It all seems

clear enough to me.

A new fact has come to light.

There's no air in here.

You saw the accident?

How did it happen?

At what point, exactly?

When the three-wheeler appeared,

what happened?

The colonel and I...

were there.

He came out,

waving to the crowd,

which didn't applaud him.

He didn't see

the three-wheeler

swerving toward him.

It hit him.

The colonel's men

ran after the vehicle.

Two officers drew their guns,

but due to the crowd,

they didn't open fire.

The three-wheeler

kept swerving

and got away.

- And then?

- Police cleared the square

and helped the lawyers put the victim

into a vw for the hospital.

Still no trace of the vw driver?

Not yet, but obviously

a friend of the lawyers.

He helped carry

the wounded man.

When the victim was run down,

could his head

have struck the curb?

No, it was out in the street.

- You're sure?

- Positive.

Why these questions?

What's this new fact?

The autopsy says

he was killed by a club.

A club?

These doctors!

Who asked them for an autopsy?

I did.

It's legal procedure.

Yesterday it was all clear!

You'll get us into deep...

A volunteer witness.

He claims the deputy was murdered

and has proof.

He'll be here to testify

at 2:00 p.m.

Here we go.

It's a murder now.

They'll be calling it a plot

if this drags on.

I saw him. He's drunk.

He stepped out

right in front of the truck.

Did you see it?

What happened?

I saw him slip and fall.

Anybody here?

Anybody here?

I'm the chief of police.

Sir, I was on my way to testify,

and as I was walking...

You fell and your head

hit the sidewalk.

You suffer from epilepsy?

Someone hit me.

I was on my way to testify

about the deputy's murder.

It was no accident.

Yago told me so himself.

I was gonna testify.

But someone hit me on the head.

Someone in a van with a club.

Probably to shut me up.

They wanted to kill me.

I don't know who told you

to say this, or why.

I don't want to know.

We can forget all this.

Let's say someone put you up to it.

You're practically family.

Your cousin's a policeman,

and your brother-in-law's

a civil servant.

Forget all this.

Sir, they're here.

If you need anything,

come and see me.

I'll check in on you again.

I'm a bachelor.

I live with my mother.

Occupation?

I run a varnishing shop.

You know Yago?

He makes my deliveries.

I don't know the other two.

The murder...

- Accident!

...was the day I phoned Yago

about a delivery.

Varnished coffins! I can't even make

my kamikaze payments.

Come back this afternoon.

They're not ready.

I'm busy later.

- Tonight, then.

- I'm busy then too.

I'm about to make the biggest mistake

of my life. A murder.

Next day I heard

he'd killed the deputy.

Yago told you all that?

When did you join the party?

I've never belonged to any party.

I only like soccer.

What's with you all?

The general says I'm epileptic...

General?

The chief of police.

Calls it a nervous disorder.

- He was here?

- Just before you came.

But I'm no epileptic,

and I don't belong to any party.

Go on about Yago.

That's all.

He left, saying to my helper...

He's the lucky one.

When can you deliver these?

I tried to set him straight,

but he does as he pleases.

Who told you

to call the magistrate?

No one. I saw Yago's picture

in all the papers.

A thug on the front page,

like a minister.

- And why not you, right?

- So you made up this story.

No, someone advised you.

No.

Even Ma was against it.

She said to keep quiet.

- Come and eat.

- He killed a man.

- What man?

- A deputy.

- In the government?

- No, the opposition.

He did right.

What's it to you?

He got his picture in the paper.

Eat.

Let them kill each other.

Not hungry.

Later she came with my sister.

You trying to be a hero?

Just doing my civic duty.

Take a walk!

Your civic duty's

to your family.

I've done enough.

Now some other idiot buys you dresses.

My husband's no idiot.

And that's my business!

Don't butt in, Mama.

Think you'll earn a medal?

I came anyway.

Or I would've,

if they hadn't clobbered me.

You didn't fall?

I'd have to be an acrobat

to land on my head.

I'll come by tomorrow

if you still want to testify.

Sure do. I'm not nuts.

Your first prosecution witness.

They lost no time.

Tomorrow you'll have 10,

the next day 15.

"Yago this, Yago that..."

Nonsense!

Vague statements

of no legal value

that will create unrest.

They sent him

and made up the attack

to turn a witness

into a martyr.

Here he's hospitalized

but able to talk.

You admit I was attacked.

See? I didn't fall.

You know what perjury

can get you?

It's not perjury!

Maybe

I should've stayed home.

I warned you.

Why get involved?

Aren't you happy at home?

Eat.

What if you say you slipped

on an orange peel?

I didn't slip.

You're so pigheaded.

Listen to me for once.

Just this once.

The first and last time.

- Like always.

- Really the last time.

Say you slipped.

Your brother-in-law will be okay.

You won't risk prison.

I'll send others to prison.

No risk. I got 'em.

So much for Yago

and his picture.

Who sent you, Ma?

The cops or Sis?

Yes, it was me.

You want to destroy my home?

Leave us, Mama.

Leave us, I said.

- Don't fight.

- Out!

You hate me

for succeeding in life.

You and your husband

hate me.

Never mind him.

You've caused him enough trouble!

You want to destroy my life.

When Papa died,

I hoped you'd take his place.

I needed security.

You ignored me.

You never took me anywhere.

You preferred soccer

and thugs like Yago.

See where it's got you!

Prison, maybe, for perjury.

We'll be called accomplices.

My husband will be fired.

Come here. Listen.

You hear a guy's gonna be killed.

You don't believe it.

Then you hear he's dead.

Wouldn't you tell the cops?

That's all I did,

to help them.

- Help who?

- To help the law find the killer.

You're helping the others.

What do you want?

Your mother sent me.

I'm a journalist.

I'll tell you what happened,

because you print a lot of nonsense.

- Were you there?

- No, but he wasn't struck.

He slipped or passed out,

or leftists hit him

to stir up trouble.

That's what the police say.

They say he's crazy

but can't prove it. Can you?

- No, I can't.

- Then why try?

I never said that.

On the contrary,

he's mule-headed.

There's no changing his mind.

If he doesn't change it,

the investigation continues.

What if he is crazy

and had epilepsy as a kid?

Tell him

how you and your husband

joined the right-wingers

to get yourselves jobs.

It's true!

I joined them!

Don't wake the policeman.

She woke him up.

- He was asleep?

Taking pictures?

For the press, like Yago?

It looks ugly.

People have to see you

and know they attacked you

to keep you from saying

something important. See?

They'll attack me again.

They won't dare,

once you're famous.

But the papers

have to talk about you.

Tell me who was here:

Your sister, mother, the magistrate.

The general.

He can't stand me.

I wanted to help

and got a cold shoulder.

They asked if I was a Commie.

- Are you?

- No. Say I only care about soccer.

We'll make the front page

for a week.

Excuse me.

Who was it?

I know him.

So you're a cardiac case?

It's an old fracture.

Name and occupation?

Any convictions?

- Yes, four.

- Four.

Yes, four.

Illegal possession of a weapon,

abuse and slander, theft...

and rape.

Rape?

It wasn't really.

I was a boy scout camp counselor.

Why were you in the hospital?

Security confined him there.

My client has a weak heart.

Here's the police MD's certificate.

- I've seen it.

But why the cast

and this clublike cane?

On account

of this old fracture.

I was broke

when it happened.

I needed X rays, a cast and 10 days

in bed. Two days off work

and I'd starve.

It was a rich man's fracture.

A rich man catches a cold...

and plop!

A week in bed.

We poor get a fracture,

we still gotta work or we die.

I was in the hospital already,

so I had it taken care of.

And the night of the accident?

I was drinking with Yago till 10:00

at the Chinaman's.

You see Yago often?

Sure.

We're friends and cousins.

He'd been drinking too?

A lot.

Yago drinks a lot.

The Chinaman even told him

not to drive home.

I got in back and fell asleep.

The collision

and the shouting woke me.

I thought we were in a ditch,

but we kept going.

Then this guy leaps

onto the truck bed,

lithe and ferocious

as a tiger.

He grabs me... and whoosh!

Out I go into the street.

How did he leap?

- Like a tiger.

- Before that.

Lithe and ferocious

as a tiger.

Yago used

the same exact phrase.

As the driver,

he couldn't have seen him.

A mere coincidence,

Your Honor.

They haven't met since the accident.

They've had no contact.

The police can confirm.

Continue.

There I was in the street, cars all

around me. I coulda got run over.

- And then?

- I went home.

When I read the papers

the next day,

I went to the police,

who put me in the hospital.

There he got lost in the halls

looking for his room

and met that reporter

quite by chance.

That concurs

with other testimony.

But something you said

makes me wonder.

It changes the direction

of my investigation.

You're a Communist.

Me?

You and Yago.

You're friends.

It was something

you let slip out.

"A rich man catches a cold...

we poor still have

to work or we die."

Then you caught yourself

and stopped.

I hate Communists!

Not words.

I want proof!

Only a Communist

would say that.

I belong to

an anti-Communist group!

- And Yago?

- Yago too.

Which one?

CROC! Christian Royalist

Organization against Communism.

You've unleashed a storm.

Vago's charged with collusion.

Collusion means premeditation.

The magistrate believed you.

He started digging...

and found that Vago and Yago

belong to a secret group.

- Secret group?

- Yes, CROC.

Everybody knows 'em.

The cops use 'em

to keep order during state visits.

You're safe.

You're famous now.

But in a year I'll be forgotten.

No one can touch you now.

Know anyone who could point out

these CROC people to me?

I'd pay.

They did this.

All the more reason

to expose them.

Well?

Know anyone?

Sure do.

But don't say I told you.

It's Dumas...

alias "The Russian,"

born in Odessa.

CRoC's got a hold on him

'cause of trouble with his brother.

He wants to work in Germany

but has no passport.

So if you can fix that...

A passport? No problem.

I can get one through my paper.

The photos?

- Here.

I've kept my word.

Now you keep yours.

- Don't like it?

- Sure.

So... those questions?

Does CROC meet regularly?

Where?

At some fat guy's place

on the edge of town.

Are there many of you?

Sometimes.

- What goes on?

- The chief talks patriotism...

Religion, monarchy...

the twin pillars

of our eternal homeland

and Western

Christian civilization.

If you don't listen,

you don't work.

What else?

In Russia a worker can't strike,

or believe in God,

or have his own

house and garden.

Individuals are crushed

by a totalitarian regime.

- You all believe that?

- I even read it in the papers.

The state owns everything.

Yago attended the meetings?

Always.

He also talked about capitalists.

No more capitalists!

No more workers!

No more Left or Right!

A people united, one nation,

is what we need!

That calls for a clean sweep.

Start with intellectual scum!

The bookstore down the street!

He'd talk about parliamentary farce,

political youth movements.

Really? What'd he say?

Unite the young people...

...and give them a common ideal.

Abroad they're told,

"Make love, not war."

We say, "Make war!

Make war on corruption,

on liberalism,

and on indiscriminate liberties!"

I say fine, but I don't care.

And Yago?

He agrees, but he only wants

to pay off his kamikaze.

Now he can pay it off easily.

That's why he killed the deputy?

You said no accusations.

No, it's on me.

No way.

At least point them out

for some photos.

That what you wanted?

The three guys

on the three-wheeler.

The butcher.

He was in on it.

The fat guy.

He owns the bar where we meet.

The barber.

The mechanic

and the two in black.

- In the khaki jacket.

- Him?

An ex-boxer

who lived in the U.S. For a while.

In the garden, the chief...

an officer

during the German occupation.

The fig seller, a loudmouth.

Goes in for rough stuff.

Some figs, please.

The guy sitting over there.

Sells his own blood.

In emergencies

he jacks up the price.

That guy got rich

selling one eye to an American.

He doesn't attend

meetings anymore.

His sight's bad,

so he sells his blood.

Not him?

Them?

Him?

It looks like... It's him.

He beat me twice.

In the street

and in the ambulance.

Write that in the margin.

You have to publish it

in our paper.

Sign your name.

Publish it.

Sure, but not in your paper.

In a national daily.

It'll get read, and it pays.

- Money's not the point!

The photo runs tomorrow with my piece.

Bring the magistrate here.

Want do you want out of this?

Satisfaction or impact?

In a local opposition paper,

no one will see it.

In mine,

it's sensational news.

So you recognized me?

I'm a working man.

You dishonored me,

made me out to be a gangster.

I wasn't at that demonstration.

I'm not political.

Deputies are all swine.

Let go of him.

Leave the room.

I'm the magistrate.

Let's hear it.

My photo on the front page.

Mr. Pirou says I hit him

at the demonstration.

I wasn't there.

I got witnesses.

Politics is full of swine.

I was at the market

with my figs.

Your picture

was in what paper?

I forget.

It arrives from the capital

at 10:00 a.m.

I can't read... not very well.

The newsstand guy

read it to me.

Everyone at the market

thinks I'm a hood.

I came to have it out with him

man to man.

A paper from the capital?

- Still recognize me?

- I asked which paper!

The paper that gets in

from the capital at 10:00.

It didn't get in this morning.

The mail plane was grounded.

Who told you to say all this?

Okay...

so I hit him.

But it wasn't my idea.

Somebody made me do it.

The same person who warned me.

What's his name?

I can't tell you.

Somebody high up.

Somebody big.

I can't tell you.

He came to warn me.

Barone, your picture's

in the paper.

Mine?

The papers arrive at 10:00,

so at 10:45, no earlier,

you rush down to see Pirou

in the hospital.

Raise hell.

Claim you're innocent.

Yell. Make a stink.

There'll be reporters around.

Repeat what you have to do.

I run to the hospital...

Get lost.

...to see Deputy Pirou.

Tell us his name.

I can't. He's too big.

Enough.

Come with me, please.

I'm innocent.

I only wanted to testify.

It's all an opposition scheme.

This important man...

I'm not asking his name.

He helped you?

Yes, in my work

and with my birds.

Their singing wakes the neighbors.

I was gonna have to move.

But birds are nice.

You should come by

to see them.

He helped me out

in my work too.

My market permit and all that.

The day of the accident,

he came for you?

Yes. Jimmy the Boxer said,

"The director's downstairs."

He was in his car.

Get in.

You know it's tonight?

But I can't.

I had a shipment coming in.

Figs need special care.

You need a stand

to sell them.

I got one.

And a permit.

- I got one.

- Sure, but for how much longer?

- Six months.

- And who renews your permits?

He issues the permits?

Yeah.

Then he dropped us off.

Do a good job tonight.

I'm counting on you.

You'll get

your permanent permit,

and maybe a new house

just for you and your birds.

Go on.

I said, "Yes, Colonel.

We'll do our best."

The head of security.

Sit down.

We'll go over it calmly.

Can I have my assistant?

Do you realize

that prolonging the investigation

gives the opposition

fuel for subversive action?

Are you on their side?

It's a new case

in a different light.

Some points are murky, but the case

is clear. Nothing's changed.

On the contrary.

We began with an accident

and two drunks.

Some ice, dear.

Their testimony concurs

in every detail.

Backed up by the Chinaman.

Next day, the autopsy reveals death

caused by a clubbing.

Which a counterautopsy

will refute,

and an expert will annul

the previous ones, etc.

Before I have time

to examine this new theory,

a volunteer witness

says it was a murder attempt.

Based on vague talk.

On his way to see me,

the witness is clubbed.

He's still in the hospital.

What are you hinting at?

Nothing, sir.

I'm only stating facts.

Enter the reporter.

His motives are anything but political.

That's important.

Then I discover that

Yago and Vago belong to CROC,

the Christian Royalists...

- I know them.

- You know them.

Along with the second

deputy's assailant

and most of those

at the demonstration.

It seems the police

know them and use them

to maintain order

during state visits.

That remains to be proven.

As does the head of security

driving this man

to the demonstration.

That's outrageous!

He would never deal

with such an individual.

Not openly.

No one would believe it.

My conclusion is this:

It would be simple

as a drunk driving case,

but that's no longer possible.

However, if we accept it as

the premeditated act of a group

abetted or simply tolerated

by the police,

it all becomes clear

and fits together.

This is very serious.

I must phone the minister.

I favor the accident theory.

Premeditated by two fanatics.

Drunk, to boot.

Right, you don't smoke.

You must settle this quickly.

The city, the country, even the world

are watching and waiting.

Our country's honor is at stake.

Forget about these lowlifes.

Your future lies before you.

This case can take you very far

or break your career.

Take it

from someone who knows.

My organization is recognized

by the authorities.

We are honest citizens,

healthy elements of society,

antibodies in the fight

against all infection.

Our goal is the defense

of Western civilization.

But it's a moral struggle.

None of our members

were at that demonstration.

Where were you that night?

I was with the treasurer

of the Dockers' Union.

Alibi confirmed.

My brother and I were

playing cards with our dentist.

Alibi confirmed.

I'm a baker.

I sleep till midnight at my shop.

Alibi confirmed.

I was at the Chinaman's.

Alibi confirmed.

At the Chinaman's.

Alibi confirmed.

I was with the brothers

at the dentist's.

Alibi confirmed.

That's not you

at the demonstration?

It does look like me.

Indicted for perjury...

along with those

who confirmed his alibi.

Plus obstructing justice.

Take him away.

Witness 27 died last night

of a heart attack.

He owned

the CROC meeting hall.

Before, you stated

Yago hit you with a club

similar to a police nightstick.

Do you maintain that?

- Yes, Your Honor.

The prosecutor says

he phoned you that morning

about death threats

against the deputy.

Your superiors say

they never got his message.

True, I forgot to tell them.

That's a serious error.

I'll answer to my superiors,

not you,Your Honor.

That morning, Counselor,

you were warned of death threats

against the head

of your movement.

Who informed you

about them?

A colleague's wife.

She can't give us the name.

She'll have to.

The man says I can tell you.

He's out in the hall.

Bring him in.

His name's Coste.

The day of the murder...

- The incident.

...he came to my office

to tell me of a conversation

he'd overheard.

But he can tell you better.

I don't want to be in the papers.

I don't want to be known.

Why not?

Isn't your story true?

Yes, but I don't want

any trouble.

Come see me if you need help.

Wait in the hall, please.

Name and occupation?

Llya Coste, deliveryman.

On the day of the murder...

The incident.

There's no proof of murder yet.

The day of the incident,

it rained a bit...

I work myself to death,

and the bank gets half

of what I earn.

Someone wants you.

Again?

Which one?

Him.

Go on.

I heard Yago say...

- What if it rains?

- So?

- We'll skid.

- It won't rain.

If it gets damaged?

I got payments due.

We'll reimburse you.

All the payments?

Hey, Yago!

The varnisher phoned.

He needs some coffins delivered.

It's a good sign.

See you tonight.

Then he came over to me.

I'll buy you a drink.

As he sat down,

I saw the club.

What's that for?

A delivery job tonight.

It'll make things easier.

What kind of delivery?

A delivery to hell.

A deputy from the capital.

Don't get into trouble.

No one will know.

If they find out,

I'll know it was you.

Later, the same man

came back.

The colonel looks different

in civvies.

- How do you know him?

- I applied for a three-wheeler permit.

Every six months, I go to him to renew it.

I always saw him in uniform.

But why pick Yago?

He's the best driver in town.

You should see him

drive his kamikaze.

This fellow

has a political history.

During the Occupation,

he was in the Communist underground.

He was deported to the islands.

- So his testimony...

- Is suspect, of course.

I wouldn't use it.

Leave him.

Isn't it obvious they're targeting

troublesome witnesses?

They just tried

a quicker method on me.

- What are you talking about?

- Attempted murder. Just now.

The plot continues

as long as the culprits are free.

I'm the magistrate here.

Spare me your advice.

This affair started at the top.

The police are a tool.

They don't have

the means or the guts

to commit a murder like this

without being covered.

The guilty ones are in the government

or higher up at the palace,

where the general

was head of the guard.

And since the palace

has its foreign protectors...

One more word

and I'll charge you with insulting

the state and the courts.

This isn't a rally.

What happened?

They tried to kill me.

They knew I had

vital information for you.

On my way here,

a car tried to run me down.

Any witnesses?

Here are the names of three honest,

God-fearing housewives who'll testify,

and the park guard,

a decorated war veteran.

And your vital information?

The vw was a police vehicle.

The one that took him

to the hospital?

But as no police were allowed in

the car to finish him off,

the driver took detours.

I know. I was there.

How odd. I know the car belongs

to one of your friends.

Surely a friend of theirs.

He helped carry the victim.

Who told you that nonsense?

The car vanished.

No trace of it at the hospital.

The page was torn out

of the registry.

Don't you find that odd?

I think you did it

to add grist to your mill.

Is this the car?

Find the owner of this car.

You want to wash up?

Thanks. I'm all right.

Sit down.

Let's hear your revelations.

But you risk indictment for perjury

and obstruction of justice.

Go ahead.

The car was waiting there,

hidden by the police.

And when

the three-wheeler came?

He came forward.

Mr. Head of Security!

Mr. Chief of Police!

He wanted the general to clear

the square to avoid fighting.

Come on.

What are you waiting for?

I saw the three-wheeler.

Watch out!

Was the man in back standing?

Could he have hit him?

I can't say.

It all happened so fast.

And then?

He fell to his knees.

It was chaos.

His knees?

His head didn't hit the ground?

No, he was on his knees,

surrounded by demonstrators

swarming in.

The police just stood there.

Which demonstrators?

Who was with him?

Impossible to say.

We pulled them away.

That's when he collapsed.

A VW drove up.

From where, I don't know.

Only then did the police intervene.

They tried to get into the car.

Come on!

Quick! To the hospital!

Get going!

Faster! Use your horn.

Is it broken?

Turn right!

- I'm just avoiding traffic.

He did it to waste time.

Then he hit another car.

You're doing it on purpose.

We have to make a report.

A man's been hurt.

It's a matter of life or death.

Okay, go on.

He did it on purpose.

The cops would've

finished him off in the car.

I did it on purpose?

That's unfair. I did my best.

They were upset.

I don't blame them.

Everyone ignored me

at the hospital.

I'd rented the car

for a date that afternoon.

I'd just dropped the girl off.

Traffic was cut off.

I must've passed a roadblock

without security realizing it.

At the hospital, I washed

the blood off the car seats.

You just stated,

"I'm a part-time chauffeur."

But you rented the car

as a serviceman.

- I'm doing my military service.

- In what branch?

Military police.

So you're a police driver.

Which department?

A department

close to the general.

How close?

Let's say personal.

For how long?

A year.

The general's driver

for the past year.

And you just happened

onto the scene of the murder?

Excuse me, sir.

Do I type "murder"?

You said "murder."

The prosecutor just phoned.

Do you know who's here?

The attorney general.

Leave us alone.

The attorney general

has come to see you,

in secret and incognito.

Yes, Mr. Prosecutor?

Yes, he's here.

We'll be right down.

So it's you. Take a seat.

So you'd indict the chiefs

of police and security?

It's inevitable...

Only events dictated

by divine will are inevitable.

The body of proof

is damning, sir.

Proof? Malicious gossip!

So-called proof

invented by pacifists

who want to create a hero.

Certainly, sir,

but the collusion of police

with demonstrators

has been established.

These two circled in red

are plainclothesmen.

They took part in the demonstration.

They've even confessed.

We also know that

the head of security met Yago that day,

along with other demonstrators.

The general said he didn't know

the driver of the vw.

In fact, he's the general's

personal driver.

I'll skip the matter

of police passivity.

Then comes the intimidation

of witnesses.

Vago is hospitalized secretly

with a police medical certificate.

He's found prowling near the room

of a witness with a club.

Then there's the crime weapon,

the club Yago carried

and which witnesses saw.

This club disappeared

during his arrest,

but the officer admitted

he rewrote his report.

You're not to mention

the club in your report.

But it's done, sir.

I'm the inspector general.

At ease.

No need to defend yourself.

You were doing your duty.

How long have you been

in the service?

Six years.

It's simple.

Just rewrite your report.

Mr. Prosecutor!

That's when you walked in, sir.

The officer couldn't lie.

His confession will cost him dearly.

There are grounds for indictment,

but not enough

to sentence police officers.

The jury will do its duty.

I have to do mine.

You'll discredit the police,

as well as the court,

which will be blamed

for not sentencing them.

As if it's not enough

that our country's been invaded

by long-haired thugs,

atheists and junkies

of unclear sex,

now you want to disparage

our armed forces and courts,

the only elements

not corrupted by parliamentarianism.

Just when we dream

of renewal,

a country without parties,

without Left or Right,

heeding God and its destiny,

you want to ruin it all.

Listen to me.

Let me make a suggestion.

I understand your scruples.

They're to your credit.

My idea should satisfy you,

the government and the palace.

Divide the case

into three parts.

First, try the two criminals.

Let justice be done.

Second, the police authorities.

Their negligence is evident,

or at least probable,

but it lies outside the jurisdiction

of a circuit court.

It's an administrative matter

that can be handled internally.

Third, bring an action

against the rally organizers.

Their inflammatory speech makes them

morally responsible for the violence.

It's an old rule of thumb.

Who stands to gain the most?

The justice minister asked me

if you were a Leftist.

I categorically denied it.

Here's a list

of useful witnesses.

It seems no one meant to kill

the deputy, just intimidate him.

I trust I've convinced you

to protect the honor

of the forces of law and order.

But you're accountable only

to your conscience, after God.

I won't bear this dishonor.

Indict me

and I'll commit suicide.

Dishonor is intolerable.

If need be, my blood will flow

in this very room.

Name and occupation.

You have to answer.

Sign your statement.

You are officially charged

with first-degree murder.

Your arrest warrant is ready.

The law grants officers

24 hours before incarceration.

To avoid the press,

use that door.

You are charged

with first-degree murder.

This is intolerable!

Disgraceful!

You have no right!

I've been thrown to the hounds.

Name and occupation.

You are charged

with first-degree murder.

Take a seat.

For me,

I see no alternative.

Either I'm cleared

or I commit suicide to avoid dishonor.

Name and occupation.

It's routine, General.

What did you do the day

of the murder?

I'd decided to attend the Bolshoi.

Not out of love for dance.

I'm no pervert, thank God.

But it was a chance

to spot sympathizers.

The morning of the murder,

you were informed

of a threat on the victim's life.

No one told me

of any death threats.

I'm convinced it was only a tactic

to justify any incidents.

My men couldn't stop

the three-wheeler,

but a man leaped

onto the flatbed,

like a tiger,

lithe and ferocious as a tiger.

I know no one

in that organization.

I have no contact

with these combatants... this CROC.

I have a photo of a banquet

you gave for them

as thanks for maintaining order

during a state visit.

Is he a Communist?

Why is he after me?

His father was a colonel

in the military police.

This photo's doctored.

It's no proof.

First-degree murder

and abuse of authority.

Are you a victim like Dreyfus?

Dreyfus was guilty!

H?l?ne!

They've all been charged,

even the general.

The magistrate didn't back down.

You see?

It's as if he were still alive.

It's a real revolution.

The government will fall.

The extremists will be swept away.

The elections will be

a landslide victory.

THE TRIAL

The deputy prosecutor

never made the trial.

He died of a heart attack,

according to the coroner.

Seven other witnesses died

before the trial.

A car accident.

A gas explosion.

A suicide.

A drowning.

A work accident.

A second car accident.

And a heart attack while driving.

"Foul play is ruled out,"

the new head of security declared.

After a three-month trial,

Vago was sentenced

to eight years on a prison farm,

where one year equals two.

Yago, 11 years of the same.

Ten months

for disturbing the peace.

Twelve months,

with a possibility

of paying off his term.

For the four indicted officers,

charges dropped,

with administrative reprimands.

The scandal led

to the government's resignation.

After the trial,

the opposition united,

certain to win the elections.

Weeks before elections,

the military seized power

and dismissed the magistrate.

During transport in a police van,

Deputy Georges Pirou

died of a stroke,

according to police.

Deported to the islands.

Fell from the seventh floor

during questioning.

Attempted to escape,

according to police.

Three years for disclosure

of official documents.

The military

regime banned

long hair,

miniskirts,

Sophocles,

Tolstoy, Euripides,

Russian-style toasts,

strikes,

Aristophanes,

lonesco, Sartre,

Albee, Pinter,

freedom

of the press,

sociology,

Beckett,

Dostoyevsky,

modern music,

pop music,

new math,

and the letter Z, which means

HE LIVES in Ancient Greek.