All language subtitles for A.French.Village.S07E02.FRENCH.WEBRip.x264-ION10

- Loriot, traitor!
- Stop it!

Loriot, traitor!

You got nothing better to do?

You get drunk and tell bullshit.

- Weren't you a traitor?
- No.

I was doing my job.

That's being a traitor, you idiot!

- You could let us go.
- 500 francs of damage.

The judge will come.
The bar's pressing charges.

They shouldn't. He organized
the November 11, 1943 march.

That's irrelevant.

- He's right.
- No, he isn't.

Where were you on November 11, 1943?

In Moissey.

Is there a problem?

What're you doing here?

I got nostalgic.

Hello, Suzanne.

Don't leave him in jail.

- It's serious.
- I don't care, just do it.

You know what I'm risking?

I hardly ever ask you for anything.

Get him out of there.

Please.

Thank heavens! Justice does exist.

Get up, Gustave!

Come on.

Betrayed, Antoine.

We've been betrayed.

A FRENCH TOWN

I declare meeting No. 43

of the Regional Purge Committee open.

Ms. Jeannine de Cantillon.

I have Jeannine, widow of Chassagne.

I'm using my maiden name again.

An exemplary case.

Ms. Chassagne...

De Cantillon.

...worked for the Krauts,

exclusively for them
for over two years.

She repaired tanks,

delivered concrete to the Wehrmacht

the Luftwaffe,

and even delivered

camouflage nets to the Flak.

As traitor as it gets.

I suppose you don't deny the facts.

Of course I don't.

In fact, I have answered
to several authorities.

I worked for the Germans...

- The Krauts.
- ...in order to obtain information

that allowed me
to help the Resistance,

and eventually
save the maquis in 1943.

It's been proven in court.

So you lived with Chassagne
to help the Resistance?

Living with a French collaborator

is no crime.

Alas!

Everyone worked with the Germans,
starting with me.

Yes, but not through 1944.

Ms. Chassagne made millions

with the Krauts.

But I gave the Resistance
more than 400,000 francs!

It's been acknowledged by the courts.

It was the biggest contribution
to the Resistance in the department.

I am no angel, but I have nothing
to feel guilty about.

I fully agree with Mrs. Schwartz.

I commend her
for her clear-sightedness,

which is uncommon for a woman.

We must strictly follow

the request
of the Jewish Affairs Commission,

and thus track down
Jewish administrators,

Jewish stockholders, Jewish money.
It is no easy task,

since Jews have mastered
the art of concealment.

That's how they invaded France.

That's for sure,
but I think we need to go further.

Meaning?

If we want to eradicate
the Jews from France,

as President Laval
and the Marshal wish,

we must seek to identify
Jewish employees,

Jewish subcontractors...

A questionnaire
should be completed upon hiring:

"Do you have Jewish blood?"

Don't you agree, Schwartz?

Last year,
I was mistaken for a Jew, so...

I'm not sure about
putting them on file.

It's the Jews you should be wary of!

We must fight our internal enemy
to save France.

We've covered every angle.
Let's move on to the verdict.

Mister Lherbier?

I demand a sentence
commensurate with the crime.

10 years of national indignity,

confiscation of assets,

prohibition of stewardship.

Mister Schwartz?

Excuse me,

but how can Mr. Schwartz,

her ex-husband,
be a member of the jury?

Our party asked the authorities
this question 3 times, to no avail.

He was a businessman
and a member of the Resistance.

Does the answer suit you?

And it's his personal life.

Raymond?

A simple warning should be enough.

A "simple warning"?

I agree with Mr. Schwartz completely.

Gentlemen?

The activities must be resumed.

A warning is fine.
Registered where?

In our minutes record.
It'll be published

as soon as the paper stocks
will be sufficient.

No need to vote, then.

This committee sentences
Jeannine de Cantillon to a warning.

By absolute majority.

Clerk, please.

- You're not hungry?
- No.

- At least have some milk.
- No!

Gustave, I got you out of jail
because Suzanne asked me to.

So change your tone.

Throw me back in it.
I'm used to jail, anyway.

- Would Marcel be proud of you?
- What do you care?

You know he loved you.

Gustave!

Your father's dead.

He gave me a message for you.

I love you
Be a man

- You're on the black market.
- And?

Does it bug you?

Forget it, Suzanne.

Tell me about Jérôme.

- Where is he?
- Jérôme? Never heard of him.

This isn't the station, Alain.

- Hi, Mom.
- Go to your room, Léonore.

- Can I have some milk?
- No. Please, go to your room.

Here.

I haven't touched it.

Léonore... No.

- Why not?
- Because I'm asking you.

- Léonore.
- You're not my dad.

Your dad would agree with me.

Gee, it's just milk!

Léonore, go to your room.
We'll talk later.

Are you listening to me?

Alright, that's enough.

You're not my dad either.

He died fighting guys like you.

It's complicated, Gustave.

You shack up with a cop
and you dare lecture me?

Fine, message received.
Can I go now?

Listen, Gustave.

I've got your papers,

and it's enough
to take you down in court.

So calm down, listen to Suzanne
and we'll see. Alright?

- Apparently, I have no choice.
- No.

You have to press charges for libel,

and deny it through the press
immediately.

- Are you sure?
- If you want to be mayor, then yes.

Refutations are hard to believe.

If you don't deny it, you admit it.

I'll write it down
and go to the paper if you want.

OK.

- Hello, Mr. Bériot.
- Hello, Mr. Bridgewater.

I hear you're no longer mayor.

I still work
with the Liaison Committee.

A statement
from the prefect of Kervern.

Did you get my letter
about H. Müller?

Yes. So what?

You could have him come
to the Larcher-Servier trial.

He's a key witness.

He is wanted in France
for several crimes.

And?

We can lend you one
of our prisoners for a few hours,

but we need to make sure
you give him back.

You have my word.

He comes, he testifies, he leaves.

I trust you.

But trust is better
when it is based on a document.

Sign this.

Where were you? I was worried.

We had trouble with the cops.

Nothing serious.

- Miss.
- Geneviève, my fiancée.

This is Anselme,

my mate from...

Work. My mate from work.

- You got a job?
- Not yet. Where's Gran?

- She's inside.
- I'll take this.

Her back hurts.

She couldn't weed the meadow.

There you are, Antoine!

Fooling around in the army again?

- Mister...
- Anselme, a friend.

I thought he could stay for a while.

You "thought"?
Did all that thinking lead to a job?

He's only been here for two days.

It smells delicious!

- Soup?
- It's no fuel oil.

- He hasn't eaten in days.
- Another scrounger.

Pour two bowls, Geneviève.
Three, if you want some too.

What about you?

My back hurts too much.
I'm not hungry.

- You should see a doctor.
- Doctors...

No, thanks. I love life.

That backache's been going on
for a while.

I'll be fine by spring.
It's always the same.

Thank you.

- How's the soup?
- Very good. Excellent.

Thank you.

Yeah, it's good.

However... it might have

a little bit of a sour aftertaste.

- But it's really good.
- Sour? My soup?

- The aftertaste.
- That's impossible!

I use beet molasses.
There's no way it's sour.

So that's your famous secret?

Molasses?

- Is my soup sour?
- Not at all!

It's very good, really.

Although a bit sour.

So your secret's the militia?
I mean... molasses?

Yes, it's molasses...

Anselme. Is that right?

Anselme?

I had a farm before the war.

I could weed the meadow, if you want.

It'd pay for my soup.

Even if it's a bit sour.

You should marry this one,
you idiot.

Come see the blue.

Well? How do you like it?

It's pretty.

- You didn't even look.
- I did.

Look... You're beautiful.
All your dresses are pretty.

- But I'm no expert.
- No, but you're a man.

- And your husband.
- Don't be such a kid!

- Which one would be best?
- Best for what?

Imagine you see me again
after a year apart.

We've been away from each other
for almost a year before.

It's not about us.

Imagine it's 1940.

You haven't seen me in a year,
you're eager.

Which one
would look best on me?

Can you tie it up?

You don't mind
the wedding anniversary?

- Are you kidding?
- Seriously?

You've never been
particularly fond of anniversaries.

You don't realize how it feels
to be Mrs. Larcher.

No, but I know how it feels
to be Mr. Larcher.

Daniel...
You give me everything.

Everything. I feel loved, safe,

useful...

Well? Are you dreaming?

No. The blue dress is perfect.

- Going on a trip?
- I hope he'll take me with him.

I'm sure he'll take me.

This trial is probably an excuse.

He's a prisoner.
He doesn't get to decide.

Even so, Heinrich always gets people
to do what he wants.

He didn't give you any news.

Not even that he's alive.

What's that?

An anonymous letter
smearing Lucienne Bériot.

Let me see.

Yuck.

It won't happen to me anytime soon.

The whole town
knows everything already.

Bériot denies it all
following anonymous letter

We need tickets
for Françoise's blue dress.

Can you get some?

I hate privileges.

And I hate seeing my daughter
in a patched-up dress.

It's her favorite.

I must be beyond reproach
right now, Lucienne.

- Did you read it?
- Yes.

You shouldn't have.
You're drawing attention to us.

Wait a second, Lucienne.

I'm not the one
drawing attention on us.

You did that.
I advise you not to forget it.

I smell a scent of threat.

More like a stench, Lucienne.

I forgave you for the Kurt story.

I go to Ms. Berthe to forget,

but if I lose the town hall,
I'll never forgive you!

Ever!

How could you become a crook?

I don't understand
why you're lecturing me.

You and my dad
were against the cops, against order.

We weren't against order.
We were against the Krauts.

We wanted them out.
Now they're gone,

we need to start living
in a certain order again.

You commies wanted
to screw up that order.

- It's complicated.
- Everything's complicated for you.

I believe things are simple.

In a world where scum makes the law,
you must help yourself.

Did you trust your father?

Yes.

Your father used to say that
in a world where scum makes the law,

you must fight for it to change.

But he thought of others first.

He was the most generous man
I had ever known.

You are the most selfish being
I have ever known.

Oh, really?

You fight for the working class,
but you give nothing

to others, like Gustave and me.

I know I can't be with Gustave
since 1940.

What about me?

I give you nothing?

Almost.

You don't take what I give you.

- You're good at dialectics!
- You're the selfish one.

- Lie down.
- What?

The mailman should be here
in one minute. Lie down.

- Selfish ass!
- Yeah, yeah.

And keep quiet!

The most selfish man
to ever exist on Earth.

I have something for you.

Your father's notebook.

He used it to prepare
meetings and presentations.

It's mostly politics,

but it's all I have
that was written by him.

You should have it.

"Why does class struggle
lead to socialism?

"The historical process
is a scientific process

"that can be determined
quite precisely".

And now?

What do we do?

I won't tell you how to live,

but think about what we said.

Read that.

You could stay with us for,
say, a couple of days,

and then you can go.

Alright?

All rise!

This Court is now in session.

Maître Lévy, please proceed.

The defense calls Heinrich Müller.

Mr. Heinrich Müller, please.

Do you swear to tell the truth
and nothing but the truth?

Raise your right hand
and say, "I swear".

I swear.

Maître.

Mr. Müller.

You were the head of the SD,

the German intelligence agency
between November 40 and August 44,

with an interruption
from 1941 to 1942?

Absolutely.

What can you tell us about
your relation to Daniel Larcher?

Not much.

Mr. Larcher was the doctor
who gave me morphine.

I have back pain.

And then, I met his wife.

It was mostly with her
that I had relations.

Most importantly,

did Mr. Larcher work for you
as an informant?

Good God, no!

No, no.

Only informed people
can be informants.

Mr. Larcher was just
a good guy who,

in the middle of the war,
wanted to be at peace with everyone:

the epitome of the suffering
and useless humanist.

No value for the SD.

Then why did you write a document
on November 8, 1943,

certifying that Larcher
was one of your informants?

Because his wife,

my mistress, asked me to do it
to save his life.

Lovers usually do each other favors.

Thank you, sir.
I believe

it is quite clear.

No more questions, Your Honor.

Mr. Prosecutor.

Mister Müller.

Having you as a mere witness
and not as the defendant

means that the French justice
has failed.

I am honored, Mr. Prosecutor.

Mr. Müller, deep down,

why should we believe
in your testimony?

I don't care if you believe me
or not, my dear sir.

I'm here to tell the truth,
not to make sure you believe me.

I think you're defending
your mistress's husband.

She's not my mistress.

And I couldn't care less
about what may happen to her husband.

I'm going to ask the jury
to please remember

that this man had dozens of people
arrested or deported.

He ordered executions,

and personally tortured
French resistants.

Oh, so this is my trial now?

I thought it was
Servier and Larcher's trial.

Someday...

Someday you will pay
for your crimes.

France has no short memory.

Oh, really?

Your Honor, you were a judge
under Vichy, weren't you?

His assessor, to his right, pleaded
against the maquis Robert in 1943.

I was a witness back then.
What a moving defense speech!

And you,

were you in the Resistance
from 40 to 44?

Your Honor,
this is contempt of court!

It's just a simple question.
And I doubt that French law,

although turbulent at the moment,

would make this a matter of contempt.

You were saying that France
had no short memory...

No more questions, Your Honor.

- Indeed, we've heard enough.
- But we'd just started.

Leave this courthouse, Mr. Müller.

Show me that call for bids.
Then, I'll go.

We can have a drink
to celebrate my warning.

Don't you think a warning
is too much?

You deserved execution.

- It's lovely here.
- Thank you.

- Scotch on the rocks?
- How I admire your English!

I've always spoken
the language of clients.

This is some fine scotch!

Thirty years of age.

It's funny to think
it was made before we met.

The colonel handed me
the call to bids.

I think he might like me.

Can I see that call?

The U.S. army needs
concrete and processed wood

for its Stuttgart and Freiburg bases.

It's a multi-million-franc deal.

It's too big.
I can't provide all this.

Unless we work together.

I do the concrete
and seduce the Yank.

You do the wood.
I'll move all the cash.

Why partner with a competitor?

I was married to him for 10 years.

That's ancient history, Jeannine.

Of course you'll go back to Jeannine.

It's crystal clear.

- Why do you say that?
- Because it's true.

No. We don't love each other anymore.

Love comes and goes, and
you've known each other for years.

If I went back to her,
I'd betray you.

I may not be here anymore.

Marie.

Even if you weren't here anymore,
I'd betray myself.

Betray yourself?

You wouldn't lose sleep over it.

You judge yourself very leniently.

I love you very much.

Let me go. I have things to do.

You see...

A big deal is just
what I need right now.

But...

I'm very fond of my independence.

I want to get my own deals.

So it's a "no"?

Yes. It's a "no".

Thanks for the whisky,
and good luck.

There's plenty of guys
who work with wood.

My friend, can you hear
The black flight

Of the crows on our plains?

My friend, can you hear
The muffled cries

Of the country in chains?

Ahoy!
Partisans workers and peasants...

She has cancer.

She needs to go to the hospital
to get radiation.

It's very expensive.

Her savings won't do it.

- Does she have health insurance?
- No.

How about Social Security?

It has yet to be created...

The pharmacist said
not until the fall of next year.

Geneviève...

I can't take care of this farm.

I don't want to,
and I wouldn't know how.

What can we do, then?

What is the cost of treatment?

At least 10,000 francs.

Müller did a great job.

You're pretty much out of it.

You'll just get national indignity.

- As if it was easy.
- Look... Your life is at stake.

Besides, you will be able
to work anyway.

You'll move out, if need be.

And for you, indignity...

Plus some jail time,
but I'm hoping for probation.

You didn't ask Müller about me.

He would've described you
as his collaborator.

I don't see the point.

The prosecution wants to summon
a certain Amélie Grosjean.

Who is she?

Amélie Grosjean is...

She worked
at the sub-prefecture in 41-42.

But she was really
a junior employee.

Office help, as one would say.

- Was she one of your patients?
- No, I don't think so.

What can she know about you,

or you?

Or both of you?

Amélie Grosjean...

Excuse me?

Is Mr. Müller here?

May I offer you a drink?

- Thank you.
- Don't thank me. It's yours.

I gave it to you.
It's yours now.

"The selfishness
and greed of the rich

"are such,
that only revolution can defeat them.

"And to succeed in revolution,

"we need a vanguard party
that can unify the working class,

"make it stronger,
and prepare it for the big day".

What's that?

- What do you care?
- Are you Marcel's son?

- What do you want?
- I'm just interested.

Well, I'm not.

Are you in the JC?

- What's that?
- You're not a communist?

No.

What are you, then?

I'm nothing.

I mean, I'm Gustave.

In Brittany, I enrolled in the UJRF,

without telling my father
or my mother.

Why aren't you?
Don't you want to change the world?

Did you read the history
textbook project for middle school?

- Yes.
- It's good, eh?

The drawings are beautiful.

Did you see Vercingetorix...

facing Caesar?

What a presence!

Did you read the part
on the Occupation?

Yeah, well...

They act as if everyone
had joined the Resistance.

You're not shocked?

We have to move forward,
see the bright side.

We are teachers, Jules.

It is our responsibility
to tell the truth.

No. Truth is for priests.

We teach children history
as they can hear it

and want to hear it,
they and their parents.

I feel like I'm being asked
to be part of a big lie.

Mr. Foulquier.

- Still at the academy?
- Naturally.

I was appointed
Inspector General last month.

I suppose you know my wife,
of course.

It's about

what happened.
You were with the kids.

A plane arrives, they're killed.

If you hadn't gone out,
those kids would be alive.

Yes...

You're here for the textbooks?

They look fine.

No, no...
I'm not here for the textbooks.

I got things to do.

I'm gonna go.

I didn't expect to see you
in this position.

- Are you a late fighter?
- Let's forget these terrible years.

I mean...

as much as possible.

It's a web of slanderous lies,
so please, spare me.

Why show me that?

I'm a very close friend
of the Superintendent.

Mister Bériot...

My approach is not official for now.

But parents of students
called the Superintendent

to say they can't put
the education of their kids

in the hands of... an antipatriot.

It's plain defamation.

I don't think
there can be smoke without fire.

And your wife

was already involved
in a serious incident in 1940.

Now that things
are back to normal,

the parents of the dead children
may want to press charges.

Five years later?

Five years later, yes.

Five years
that we all wish to forget soon.

Listen...

The best thing for your wife,

for National Education...

and for you, too,

would be for her to withdraw
from teaching for a while.

I don't know...

Maybe things will settle down.

Mister Bériot.

By the way, I agree with you.

The new history textbook
is very well done.

You shouldn't be here.

- Is she your wife?
- Yes.

- She's pretty.
- Yes.

You look good.

How long are you staying?

We're leaving tomorrow morning.

And... do you think that maybe...

you could find some time to talk?

Does the Chez Georges cafe
still exist?

Yes.

It's been renovated.
Now it's called Chez Roger.

I'll see you Chez Roger,

at 10 PM.

I won't have much time.

Mr. Antoine!

- Long time no see!
- OK?

- And you?
- Good. Is Raymond here?

- In his office.
- Thanks.

- So!
- This is my brother, Antoine.

- Pleasure.
- Mr. Schwartz.

Call me Raymond.
We'll be like family soon.

- He's shy!
- You overwhelm him.

Come on, Antoine!

You sister says you're skilled.

I don't know...

You do what, for instance?

- I don't know.
- You don't know?

At least you're not conceited.

- Can you drive?
- No.

- Do you like numbers?
- I do.

He speaks to people.
When he speaks, people listen.

That's worth gold.
Come, I'll show you the place.

So, my office is on the right.

Yours will probably be
in front of mine...

Antoine!

- You busy?
- Yes. Are you on leave?

No. The war is over for me.

Excellent idea.

What are you gonna do?

- Marry my fiancée.
- Excellent idea, once again.

You need a good caterer?

Her grandma's sick.
No, thanks.

Cancer.
The treatment's really expensive.

I need money.

You don't only have
good ideas, after all.

I thought maybe...
if you were comfortable right now,

you could lend me some.

- How much?
- Ten thousand.

- And how would you pay me back?
- I need a job first.

There are no jobs
in Villeneuve, except here.

"Here"?

You can have your old job,
with a better wage.

- Work here again?
- You'll pay me back.

So, your name is Amélie Grosjean.

You were a secretary
at the Villeneuve sub-prefecture.

Yes, until 1942.
Then, I left for Switzerland.

What were your tasks
at the sub-prefecture?

Secretarial duties, note taking...

Lots of typing.

Were you often in contact
with Mr. Servier?

- He was our boss.
- Was he nice?

Normal.

I accepted this last-minute hearing

to show that my client
trusts the system,

but I wonder
what the prosecution is trying to do.

Where are we headed?

Get to the point, Mr. Prosecutor.

Do you remember the day
of October 27, 1941?

Yes. It was the only time
I had to work all night.

Ms. Grosjean,

why did you have to work all night
that time?

To type lists of names
in multiple copies.

"Names"...

What kind of names?

Mr. Servier told us they were...

guests for a meeting.

There was about 40 names.

The list started getting shorter.

I was typing and retyping.
There must've been...

about 20 or 25 versions.

I retyped twice.
I ran out of carbon paper.

Didn't you find that odd?

Twenty versions for a list of guests
to a night-time meeting?

It was odd, but strange things
can happen in a subprefecture.

The morning of the 28th, I typed
a list of nine men and one woman.

Three days later,
I opened the paper

and I knew those were the men
who had been shot on the 30th.

The woman was deported.

Émilie Estabet.

She was beheaded with an ax
on November 6, 1943,

in her Hamburg prison.

And you typed the lists

based on which original document?

A handwritten list
provided by Mr. Servier.

So you're saying
that it was Mr. Servier

who drew up the list
of hostages to be executed?

No, I cannot confirm that.

But...

At one point,
I was typing a final list...

and Mr. Servier came to reread it,

and he changed two names by hand.

He put the woman back in it.

And he changed other names.

Thank you, Miss Grosjean.

Mr. Servier,

did you in any way intervene

in the choice of hostages
who were executed

on October 30, 1941?

Mister Servier,
you heard the question.

- Yes.
- Well?

Well...

I'm the one who drew up
the list of hostages that were shot.

Order, please!

Why did you do such a thing, sir?

The Germans agreed to shoot
only 10 hostages instead of 20.

It was the price to pay.
We made the list,

they spared 10 hostages.

Nice way to play
with people's lives.

How dare you!

That day, I saved the lives
of some of the others.

That list...

did you make it... by yourself?

Yes.

By myself.

Your Honor,
I would like to add charges

in the indictment
against Mr. Servier:

10 counts of murder.

Well done!

It is clear that there is only

one possible punishment
for such a monstrous act.

"In the Soviet Union,

"land, factories, raw materials,
everything belongs to the people.

"There are no power struggles.

"Workers know
their individual interest

"is linked to collective interest.

"That's why the bourgeoisie
wants to destroy the USSR.

"They're scared of contagion".

- Where are you going?
- None of your business.

- Answer or I'll scream.
- I'm meeting some friends.

- Where?
- Somewhere.

Tell me or I'll scream.

A safe house we have.
I can't tell you where it is.

- I'm a bad boy.
- I want to see you again.

Forget about me.

Tell me where we can meet
or I'll scream.

I could say anything,
you wouldn't know if it's true.

If you lie, you're not worth it.
So it doesn't matter.

But you're not gonna lie.
Like me, you don't like lying.

Tomorrow at the church.
2 AM, near the candles.

Will you be there? Promised?

See you.

May I sit down?

I'll take that as a "yes".

Champagne.

Remember?
This is where we had dinner in '42,

when I came back from Ukraine.

When you asked me, "Why?".

I remember everything, Heinrich.

I forget everything.

It seems that's my strength.

Does your wife tell you that?

You think I got married too soon.

I have mitigating circumstances.

How could you get married
being a prisoner?

It's very simple.

I'm not a prisoner, Hortense.

I work for the U.S. secret service
in Germany.

I'm one of the main OSS agents there.

Why do they say you're a prisoner?

Because I am being
wrongfully sought after

for war crimes in France and Ukraine.

So, I'm a prisoner.

And so...

you got married?

The OSS is taking hold of me.

At any time, they can hand me over
to the French or, worse,

the Russians.

What does it have to do
with your marriage?

Linda is the daughter of the second
in command at the OSS in Germany,

Colonel Winslow.

I seduced her.
She's crazy about me.

She's my life insurance.

In fact, I will soon become
an American citizen.

So you don't love her?

Not more than 5 minutes a day.

- We know each other, don't we?
- I don't think so.

Have you ever been to the States?

No, no.

I'm sorry.

And me?

Do you still love me?

I'll never see you again.
What's the use?

Answer me.

I'll never forgive you.

So this is the last time ever?

It is necessary.

Linda is pathologically jealous.

Do you have 15 minutes?

20 minutes.

Meet me at the restroom
and take me one last time.

- Hortense...
- 15 minutes, no more.

It's not much
after all we've been through.

- You know that's impossible.
- Then we can do it.

Like we always did.

One last time.

Based on my little experience
in love sorrow,

it'll be worse for you after.

I don't care. I want you in me.

Your wish is my command,

for 15 minutes.

- Mister Müller?
- Yes?

On request and warrant
from Mr. Nestor Ganthier,

examining magistrate,
I place you under arrest.

We'll take you to Villeneuve Prison
before your transfer.

- The cops let you go?
- More or less.

I'm not liking the vagueness.

Where were you?
What happened to you?

Some chick
that used to date my dad

is now living with a cop.
She asked him to let me go.

- And I took off.
- You were at a cop's?

- He's a snitch!
- A snitch wouldn't have told us.

But you got busted
like a rookie at Schwartz's.

We don't do business with guys
who know cops.

Aristide's got a point.

- Do you have your gun?
- No.

How do you like it?

It's heavy.

Your aunt sold it to me in '42.

Pretty, isn't it?

Yeah.

Careful.

It's loaded.

Keep it. We got news.
Tom's the one who ratted us out.

- How do you know?
- Aristide got the tip.

- I told you.
- But you're friends with cops.

You disappeared
for 24 hours, no news.

You're gonna have
to pay your dues.

- So?
- So...

You'll manage to find Tom
and take him down.

U.S. soldier or not,
he's a snitch.

A bullet in his back
to make him fall.

And a bullet in his mouth.

Subtitles: ECLAIR