Original subtitles

Ready for the big jump, Captain Cain?

Yes, if you give me back the use of my legs,

otherwise there's no point in waking me up.

Shit, the heart's failing!

He's still asystole. What do we do?

I'm giving him 10 mg of nitro.

He's crashing!

Intubate at 10 of morphine.

My bastard!

I got here this morning...

Good morning, Captain.

Borel, where did you put the body?

Over there.

Who notified us?

The cleaning lady.

Borel is questioning her.

Left foot up, Captain?

On the contrary, both feet in my boots.

It's not every day

that a leading neurosurgeon is murdered.

At the risk of disappointing you,

Professor Langlois is a priori dead by overdose.

Borel!?

Yes?

Call the PTS.

Can you explain to me

how you can go from a shooting scene

to a crime scene without any tangible evidence

and in less than three seconds?

There is nothing that shocks you?

No, precisely, no.

The obsessive order,

the clinical cleanliness of the act.

We could have a brunch on his corpse.

At the same time, he is a surgeon.

Most suicides want to make those

they consider responsible for their act pay the painful.

In short, they choose the rope, guns

or razors that turn bathtubs

into bloodbaths.

Most, perhaps, but many also commit suicide

because life has just become unbearable for them.

In this case, they swallow a handful of magic pills

and fall asleep quietly in their beds.

Undress him.

It's Sonia and the colleagues at PTS who will be happy.

I'm coming.

Suicide?

My ass on wheels, yes.

Isn't the Solune Clinic the clinic

where you were hospitalized after your accident?

72 hours of coma. 36 of anesthesia. Eight months of rehab.

What a pleasure !

What about Professor Barthes,

the neurosurgeon who operated on you?

My savior.

Remove me from a doubt.

You didn't drag me all the way here just to piss off the guy

who saved your life six years ago?

But, yes. Why?

Ah! Excuse me.

Captain Cain!

Me too, Sophie, it gives me great pleasure.

You look lovely.

All the legless asses at the clinic must be rolling over for you.

You look great.

Good foot, good eye. Especially the eye.

Is God in his Olympus?

Yeah.

What's going on with you?

My assistant will explain.

Hello.

I do everything that is monotonous and boring.

He does everything that flatters him and makes him look good.

This is not good news, Sophie.

Come in, Captain.

I hope you have good insurance

because these sports cars are so expensive to maintain.

Andre was my best friend.

I admit to being quite shocked by your mannerisms.

That was the point.

You don't seem very surprised.

Relieved is the right word.

It was Andre's choice and I respect it.

Since when do the criminal police go

for a suicide?

You're very quick!

Andre had a brain tumor inoperable.

And he would have killed himself like that?

Without leaving any message to his family, his friends?

His wife died three years ago and to be quite honest...

Is there such a thing? An honest surgeon?

André called me a few days ago.

His condition no longer allowed him

to practice the profession he loved so much.

He asked me to help him put an end to his ordeal,

but you know my position on euthanasia.

Yes, I am the living symbol of it.

Living! That's the important word.

I think of you every day, professor.

You are a kind of God to me.

Well, a demi-god,

because I am no more than half a man.

God creates life.

I am just one of those little hands that fixes it.

Amen.

Yes?

Put the gun down

and everything will be fine.

I want to see Barthes.

What is your name, sir?

Wadoche!

I want to see Barthes!

What do you want to Professor Barthes,

Mr. Wadoche?

My son is in a coma. Barthes is a murderer!

Is that how you thank me, Wadoche?

Assassin!

I am pleased to see that you have kept

excellent reflexes, Captain.

Thank you for saving me.

I admit that I hesitated.

I finally opted for life.

I am sorry, but I am expected for an intervention.

Say! This is the Bronx at your place.

You have to be lenient

with this poor man.

Yanis is his oldest son.

God knows how important in their culture.

Unlike ours, where they are drowned like cats.

What exactly is Wadoche blaming you for,?

His son

was brought to us after being hit by a truck at a red light

where he was begging.

Broken spine, affected spinal cord.

We managed to save him,

but his very weakened heart did not react well

to the various post-operative treatments.

In short, he has been in a coma since yesterday morning.

I just learned what happened.

Do you feel up to operating?

Dr. Durin

who is our associate anesthesiologist.

Captain Cain who was my patient a few years ago.

Lieutenant Delambre, criminal police, his assistant.

You're just in time.

I hope you're going to stick this savage

in the first charter

to his native Romania.

Excuse me?

Listen, he has no papers, no social security coverage.

We save his son voluntarily

and he thanks Michel with a gun.

At least, André will not have witnessed this absurdity.

Did Sophie inform you?

Yes.

Yes. It's terrible and at the same time,

I would be lying if I said that I was surprised.

Captain Cain seems to be convinced that André did not

simply kill himself.

If you're thinking of an accident,

André knew perfectly how to dose the morphine

that he regularly injected himself to keep going.

I was thinking more of a murder to be exact.

Why kill a man that everyone knew

was doomed in the short term?

Perhaps you mean euthanasia?

It's not a crime in my eyes.

Yes, it is for many others.

Look, André was very depressed

since we had forbidden him to practice.

I'm sorry, we're due in the OR.

Once again,

it's not bad faith that's suffocating you.

You're bordering on the Guinness Book of World Records.

You know the difference between God and a surgeon?

God doesn't think he's a surgeon. Got any more?

I'm sure there's a link between the hostage-taking

and Langlois's death.

Listen, Captain, I don't like any more than you do these mandarins

who think they're above the law,

but you don't have a shred of proof.

Barthes killed Langlois and I'll prove it.

Nevertheless, without him, you wouldn't be here anymore

to piss off the world with your obsessions.

My obsessions?

Barthes didn't just save my life,

he resurrected me.

Except that unlike Lazarus, I still don't walk.

Well, I'll take your blood pressure.

So, ready for round two, Mr. Wadoche?

You'll have to excuse him.

My husband is very sad about Yanis.

Mr. Wadoche, you shoot

a man, calling him a murderer and intending to kill him.

You must have good reason, right?

Yanis was fine after the operation.

Barthes promised that Yanis was still walking

and now Yanis is in a coma!

Barthes poisoned Yanis with the treatment.

Okay, you can book me for hostage taking

and attempted murder with premeditation.

Sophie, I can talk to you alone.

This man is crazy.

He's talking nonsense.

Yanis is following a treatment protocol,

like many of the clinic's patients.

What kind?

An experimental molecular treatment designed by Dr. Durin

that should allow more autonomy to people...

Like me?

Professor Langlois approved this protocol?

Of course, as did Professor Barthes.

They are even the ones who established the ethical rules.

I don't understand your question.

One of your patients undergoing treatment falls into a coma,

Langlois commits suicide a few hours later

and the next morning, Barthes is taken for a target by the victim's father.

He calls him a murderer.

I understand what I'm asking you.

Hold on, Captain. André...

Finally, Professor Langlois was not aware of Yanis.

He didn't come to the clinic anymore.

He lived completely withdrawn on himself.

I used to go to his house in the morning and in the evening

to give him a painkiller injection.

Wait, you were at his house, last night?

In the morning, only. I was on call at the clinic last night.

But I had left him doses of morphine,

just to last 24 hours.

If I had known!

Elizabeth, you are sublime.

I admit to being a little surprised by this invitation.

Unless you have a slightly more particular service

to ask of me.

But I warn you, if it's sexual,

you could have avoided the cost of this dinner.

Armchair love,

just the mention of it makes me feel orgasmic.

I adore you, Elizabeth, and yes, I have a favor to ask of you.

It all depends on the results of the autopsy of Professor Langlois.

You are so predictable!

From what I was told about the corpse before I arrived,

I can only make up, assume, imagine,

that the professor died

because he stopped breathing.

But, again?

Oh yes, I forgot.

There were also wheel tracks found at the crime scene

and hands full of fingers on the body.

As if a disabled cop couldn't stop

sniffing out the dead like a dog.

I really don't know what you're talking about.

Come on, I don't want to hold a grudge.

Langlois died of heart failure due to a morphine overdose.

Also, he had a glioblastoma.

What is a glioblastoma?

A very insidious brain tumor, which condemned him in the short term.

And the hematomas on his arm, how do you explain them?

Pre-suicidal self-flagellation

to ask God for forgiveness in advance?

To complicate what is already complicated,

Langlois suffered a stroke, three years ago.

What you take for bruises could be due

to his vascular system in bad shape.

Could? So that means it is possible...

Anything is possible.

But for that, we would need some tangible evidence,

traces of skin under the fingernails which would tell us

that the victim resisted his attacker,

other prints than his on the syringe, on the tourniquet...

We don't have any of that.

What's that?

The murderer's hair.

In 20 years of career,

nobody has dared to ask to falsify a report.

Excuse me.

I just ruined my seduction scene.

Goodbye, professor.

Goodbye, ma'am.

You again, captain?

I've been suffering for a few days now from very strong contractures,

horrible pains in the sub-traumatic area.

That's worth a little examination.

In that case, make an appointment with my assistant.

I've already made an appointment.

You saved my life six years ago,

it would be a shame to let me die today like a dog.

So wait your turn.

Ah, by the way, I had my door repaired,

it's going to cost you an arm and a leg.

There's not going to be much left.

I don't see anything wrong with it,

but I'm sure that doesn't surprise you.

Do you think it's normal that I've been suffering like hell for the last three days?

What exactly are you looking for, Captain?

The truth.

You know, that painful thing

that often hides behind appearances.

I could be suffering from an inflammation

or whatever it is that causes these contractures,

these phantom pains totally undetectable

by simple auscultation.

I saw a documentary about it.

It can be very serious, you know?

Okay. If you insist, I'll have you hospitalized

for further analysis.

But you'll see that you're wrong.

On this, as on everything else.

You want to talk about the murder of Langlois?

André was buried yesterday and to my knowledge,

no investigation questioning the thesis of suicide has been opened.

If you don't mind, we're going to concentrate on your ghost hunt.

What are you doing here?

Aren't you happy to see me?

Let's just say that I would have preferred that you invite me to dinner.

It would have been a pleasure, Sophie, but on the one hand, I doubt

that the cafeteria will live up to your romantic expectations.

But above all, I need to have a little more confidence in you.

Do you think I lied to you?

It's a little more complicated than that.

Can you help me climb up my perch?

You've been working with Barthes for more than ten years?

He's the one who hired you?

He's the one who brought you up all the way to the top?

I understand that you're protecting him.

André really did commit suicide, Captain. So stop your simpering

and invite me to dinner

in the best restaurant in Marseille instead.

Why didn't you say so right away, Fred.

That's a really good reason to take the time off you have left.

Because you can't count on me to validate a phony sick leave.

It's really nice to have friends

like you to worry about me.

Especially in a clinic full of abandoned crevasses.

And what's your plan?

To bang an infiltrator to get revenge on an innocent man?

You take your stuff and come home nicely with us.

Don't yell so loud, you'll wake up my contractures.

None of that, Fred. Bad memory.

You know what?

I really hope you get back on the pool table

and have a blast. That'll get your feet wet.

The naughty!

There you go!

Cain? Fred Cain ? Do you recognize me?

Drug squad.

Toni.

What happened to you?

Bastos in the back that hit the spine.

Operation, rehab...

You know music as well as I do.

But luckily, Mister Barthes took care of me. And you?

Just a pilgrimage, a couple of checkups for a pain

in the kidneys. Then...

Look.

And yes!

At this rate, I should be able to throw this chair

into the ditch before I retire.

Didn't Durin offer you his miracle cure?

Are you a guinea pig for Dr. Frankenstein?

Frankenstein! You're on your way.

I signed a protocol in due form.

I'm perfectly okay with the risks involved.

And you want me to tell you?

I haven't felt this good in my sneakers since my surgery.

You should think about that.

I was kind of expecting your visit, Mr. Cain.

Or should I say, Captain Cain?

Put yourself in my shoes, everyone me

about this new miracle treatment that's supposed to give me back my athletic legs.

So of course I'm wondering.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Come and see.

Here, these are sequenced genomes. I work on stem cells.

Spare me the details, it's Mandarin for me.

Tell me, without wishing to devalue your beautiful profession

isn't it more like a job for a researcher?

You have before you my thesis defense at the CNRS in Paris, ten years ago.

Except that at the time no lab wanted to finance the continuation of my work.

I went back to study anesthesiology.

I see... A victim of science, a victim of the system...

A bit like young Yanis, finally.

When I heard about the work

of professors Barthes and Langlois

to improve the condition of the handicapped,

I presented myself to them

and they not only hired me as an anesthesiologist,

but also allowed me to continue my research.

By offering you an unlimited panel of guinea pigs.

I prefer the term voluntary patient,

if I may.

Aren't you afraid

that the great Professor Barthes will blow

the Nobel laurels right out from under your nose, if you succeed?

I have absolute confidence in him

and you'd do well to do the same instead of lashing out at him.

Read this carefully and think about it.

A simple signature could give you back,

if not your athletic legs, at least a life-changing

autonomous motor skills.

All right, that's enough, now!

At 3000 euros a door, I don't feel like playing anymore.

Don't tell me your car has been vandalized again?

I'm warning you that this time, I intend to press charges.

Do you have any evidence?

Any video surveillance? Witnesses? Prints? The murder weapon?

How old are you, Cain?

I know, it's very annoying to be convinced

of someone's guilt without ever being able to produce any evidence.

That's life.

Do you remember what

I told you 6 years ago?

The famous progress of neurosurgery,

supposed to make me jump one day like a cabri.

That day has arrived.

I might not have resurrected you for nothing.

I haven't believed in miracles for a long time.

That's your problem.

You don't believe in anything anymore.

As Lao Tzu said,

only fools don't change their minds.

Are you calling me a fool, Lieutenant?

No, you are calling me to come to pick you up,

I take it you have changed your mind.

Yes, but I have changed my mind.

Ah, right!

So, yes, you are really a fool.

I want you to re-interview the Wadoches.

Yanis is a minor.

The parents therefore had to sign a memorandum of understanding

before their son could benefit from this famous treatment.

Now, they handle the French language as I do Romanian.

And you, who speak French so well, you have heard Moretti as I have.

You know what?

I feel like your Jiminy Cricket, your superego.

Because yours, he quit, disgusted, he left your reason.

I'm not far from doing the same thing.

Gel. Charge to 300. Clear. Shock!

Freeze. Charge to 360. Clear. Shock!

That's it.

Yanis Wadoche died at 4:23 pm.

Why don't you take a few days off?

You wanted to talk to me, Professor?

Just to clear up any misunderstanding, this is young Wadoche's heart.

Congenital heart defect. Nothing to do, therefore,

with the molecular treatment he was undergoing free of charge

and of his own free will

I think the parents will request an autopsy

and I guess we won't find anything suspicious.

And you think that's enough for me to leave the clinic?

No, but I have a confession to make.

God coming down from his pedestal. I pay to see.

The night he died, Andre called me around 5:30 p.m.

He was suffering hell and had decided to end it all.

He begged me to bring him what he needed to...

I didn't have the courage to refuse him.

And?

You don't spare me anything?

And I took the necessary dose from the clinic's pharmacy.

I went to his house.

It was terrible, he gave himself the injection.

Then he relaxed.

We even talked quietly

for a while, talking about our successes, our failures,

and I held his hand until the end.

And you realize that if you had told me that

from the beginning, we wouldn't be here like two idiots fighting

to see who has the biggest?

In any case, you wouldn't have believed me.

I have always refused euthanasia.

You may have felt that you had rebuilt my body,

six years ago, but I had my head crushed into pieces.

When you come out of a coma,

you can't move, you can't talk,

you stammer, but you get there.

You ask what's going to happen.

Will I be able to walk again? Pee?

Use my bowels properly?

Have sex?

You never answered me. Never.

So, you have your revenge, now?

Barthes, between you and me, there is little chance

that a court will condemn you for humanitarian support.

Yes, but there will be a trial and who says trial,

says media scandal.

You know that as well as I do.

20 years of an unblemished reputation, swept away by a few news flashes.

You and your fucking reputation.

I propose a deal.

You forget about my body-building antics

and I forget about what I just heard.

You shouldn't exaggerate either.

Mr. Wadoche, Mrs. Wadoche,

I am sincerely sorry for your son.

Thank you.

You reported what I asked you to.

Did you sign here, Mr. Wadoche?

Yes.

Can you read me the paragraph here?

Of course I can read it.

Side effects, risks of...

It says too small!

Mr. Wadoche,

this paragraph clearly explains the risks incurred by Yanis

by accepting the treatment from Dr. Durin.

It's my fault.

I didn't ask for a translation. I trusted the doctor.

We want to open Yanis' body.

We want the truth!

Ah! Here is a textbook case operated on six years ago

of a spinal fracture that led to the loss of use

of his lower limbs.

Captain Cain has been living since

practically like you and me.

Yes, that is to say, nailed to a chair for life.

For the past few days, I should say for the past few hours,

the patient has been developing a syndrome of phantom pains

with very strong contractures.

Last night, an acute attack occurred

in the extrarenal lumbar area.

Well, go cash for once.

I have an alien in the closet, right?

Blood work revealed an infection

requiring the usual protocol. Stool and urine analysis,

CT scan, MRI, renal doppler, etc... Satisfied, Captain?

Over the moon.

Thank you.

There's no need to pretend. Come on. This will ease your pain.

What's this?

Swallow.

Cyanide? Arsenic?

Have you heard from Sophie Dubois?

I can't reach her.

Sophie has been deeply affected by the death of André and young Yanis.

I advised her to take a few days off.

Come on, get up in there!

The Wadoche parents signed blindly.

If we manage to find other cases of manipulation of guinea pigs,

the boss will no longer be able to refuse to investigate us.

Am I to understand that Jiminy Cricket has passed

into my camp?

Only fools don't change their minds.

Guy Pierre, school teacher, scooter accident.

A priori this one, he can read.

Tell me, you've got it good, this little inhospitable stay.

You look like a hepatic vampire.

Lawyer, 37 years old, bungee jumping accident.

We won't find anything here. If they have stuff to hide,

this is not where we're going to find it.

Why don't you ask your girlfriend?

If they have stuff to hide, she's obviously aware of it.

Sophie didn't show up for work, this morning.

She didn't tell anyone that she wasn't there.

You broke her little heart. She must be recovering.

That's what Barthes claims, but I don't believe it for a second.

I left five messages. No answer.

Don't you want to go to her house to check on her?

It doesn't say Cupid there!

You can run your errands yourself.

That's just it, no, I can't.

You have no business being here!

This is a violation of professional secrecy.

If you want to file a complaint, I am at your disposal.

You should leave your colleague alone.

Stress is strongly discouraged in his condition.

You have been waiting for ten minutes for your scan.

What scan?

Are you ready?

Relax.

You will feel hot all over your body, but that is normal.

This heat is the opposite sensation of death.

You really know how to find the words.

A priori, she had no intention of leaving, considering the state of the fridge.

Shit!

I feel you are tense, Lieutenant.

This is never just a search.

But it's not the search that I was thinking of.

Going through a scanner is not trivial.

Well, go take a look at the computer, while I take care of my mood.

Thank you, Borel.

OK, Lieutenant.

Lieutenant, I think I found something.

There is a classified protocol file, I opened it.

So what?

She obviously scanned about ten files

before storing them on her hard drive.

Chausson, André, 68 years old, homeless.

This means that the clinic was not only treating disabled patients.

Hello, you've reached Sophie Dubois' answering machine.

Leave me a message

and I'll call you back very soon.

Mom, it's me. I've been waiting for you at noon.

Not only did you not warn me, but you're not answering.

Please call me back.

I'm really starting to get worried.

So, what's this exam story?

It's nothing. Just a little tingling in the back.

Any news about Sophie?

I still have the impression that we're not doing well.

Sophie?

I haven't heard from Sophie,

but I think I know the reasons for her running away.

Nine victims of treatment. All junkies,

prostitutes, homeless...

No family, no one to claim the accounts and especially all valid.

Do you have evidence that they were treated outside of protocol?

No.

Then there's no point.

So why would she keep them on her hard drive?

To turn them in?

To blackmail them?

I feel like a zombie right now. Are you okay?

We have to find her.

Wake up! Cain?

You're not going to push the vice

to the point of making yourself really sick?

Can you leave us alone, miss?

I'd rather she stayed.

Very well.

The results of your exams are formal.

Your infection is due to a small screw that remained

in your pelvis after the operation, six years ago.

It was still harmless a few days ago,

but today it threatens to perforate your right kidney.

I'm operating on you tomorrow.

You're a little early for the funeral.

Besides, I opted for cremation,

there wasn't a coffin big enough for my chair.

Did you prepare your line all night?

Sorry. I'm not laughing.

What time does the Office of Humor open?

Have you heard from Sophie?

Did you know she had a daughter?

According to her, her mother would never have disappeared like that,

without telling her.

We've put out an APB.

This is my fault. I put pressure on her.

Barthes and Durin have too much to lose in the story.

I'm sorry, I should have followed you from the beginning,

but we can't do anything until we find her, dead or alive.

On the other hand, Lucie and Borel are

grilling the person in charge of the social center,

who obviously has an exclusive contract

with these two vultures.

So what?

No, but you know what it is to be systematically kicked out of all

the medical services of the region under the pretext that the poor buggers

that one brings to them do not have enough to pay for their care.

Fortunately we have the clinic of professor Barth.

Except that these 9 poor buggers died.

It's because they couldn't do anything to save them.

Or because they couldn't stand the treatment inflicted on them without their knowledge.

I called the Timone to be transferred in the morning.

You can't stay in their hands.

You're forgetting the nasty screw that wanders around

in my pool like a piranha in an aquarium.

Bad move. And paf, Fukushima.

Ah well, all the more reason.

I won't leave before I've got them cornered.

Mr. Moulin, we know that the social center isn't rolling in money.

So there would be nothing scandalous about you getting a little

compensation in exchange for this exclusivity with the clinic.

Excuse me? Think carefully, Mr. Moulin.

Either you help us,

or you risk going from being a humanitarian hero

to an accomplice in the trafficking of guinea pigs, or even manslaughter.

In any case, we'll check the accounts of the social center.

So?

Okay.

Let's say we receive a subsidy.

- Ah, from the clinic. - No.

From a big pharmaceutical company.

This may be the last investigation Jacques,

you owe it to yourself. - Last investigation, my ass.

And I thought you were untransportable.

And so, there is a law that forbids me to interrogate them here in my room?

Please sit down.

We inform you that this interview is going to be recorded.

I therefore have the right to a lawyer.

Not until the custody has been officially pronounced.

According to our information,

your work is sponsored by a large pharmaceutical laboratory

in exchange for the exclusivity on the exploitation of my patent.

How do you explain the death for the least suspicious

of these nine guinea pigs that provided you with the social center

and who did not suffer from any handicap justifying your experimentation ?

This laboratory demanded that

I extend the panel in order to prove the non-noxiousness

of my molecule on organisms that were older or in a worse general state.

But each one signed the protocol

of agreement in exchange for the free care that they were given.

And I don't know how you obtained these documents,

but I doubt that it is legal.

Sophie sent them to me

before mysteriously disappearing. In your opinion,

why would she have done such a thing?

If everything was as legal as you would like to tell us, Dr. Durin?

You can call your lawyer, Mr. Durin.

Each of her patients was informed of the risks involved.

They all signed the protocol agreement allowing us

to apply the treatment of Dr. Durin to them.

So, how do you explain the fact that these

files have disappeared from the clinic's administrative files,

but not from the hard disk of Sophie Dubois' computer?

You could also have found it

in my computer and in Dr. Durin's computer.

We have nothing to hide.

I give you my word as a sworn practitioner sworn practitioner that their death is in no way

collateral damage to the treatments that we have experimented on them

And we are obliged to believe you.

Especially since it is going to be difficult to autopsy the bodies.

You can always ask for an exhumation,

but I know that Yanis' parents have asked for an autopsy.

Did your forensic scientist establish a

tangible link between the treatment and his cardiac arrest?

No,

that's 10 victims out of 76 cases treated and all under official protocol.

How many deaths for the work of Charcot, Pasteur

or we would be the modern surgery if the brave men

had not greased the paw to the executioner to be able to dissect

bodies, corpses at the risk of their lives?

But it is not our case.

We have always acted within the framework of the current legislation

so that hundreds of thousands of disabled

who are waiting for the exploitation of this molecule can finally benefit from it.

Imparable.

Nice praise for science.

Captain Cain, you entered this clinic with the conscious

and admitted purpose of getting back at the practitioner who saved your life six years ago.

Apart from my own admission of having

accompanied my friend Langlois in his suicide.

You have strictly nothing else to blame me for.

I admire you Barth.

And you're right, I did want to kill you.

And now you're going to save my life before my kidney explodes

You're not serious Fred?

If I'm afraid he is serious.

Of course he is. And I want Durin as my anaesthetist.

What am I risking,

I can't be in better hands than God's.

Don't tire him out, we're coming to pick him up in 10 minutes.

You can take Delambre out, your modesty is safe.

- You look like a rooster...

- All you need is a feather in your ass to set the backyard on fire.

Ha! That's fucking stupid!

Wait, we're stopping everything!

Did you hear Barth?

We've got nothing on them.

And you know it as well as I do that we haven't found Sophie.

It's our only chance to catch them.

And she's no thicker than a frog's ass hair.

Ready for the big jump Captain?

I've been waiting for this moment for six years.

Good!

You'll count to 10 and it will be fine.

1, 2, 3... Just a detail...

4, 5, 6... Sophie's body was found...

Danièle.

Leave us alone.

Please.

- Can you explain? - He's bluffing!

How do you know?

I dumped her lead-laden body in the middle of the ocean, we'll never find it!

Why did you do that?

For the same reason you killed Andre, so he wouldn't rat on us.

I didn't kill Andre, I euthanized him.

That's what you told the cops!

And maybe even this that you tell yourself.

And that same evening, André called me just after you.

He told me that he had nothing more to lose, that he was going to call the Order of Physicians

to relieve his conscience.

So I had the same reflex as you.

I went to his house

when I saw you coming out of his house and getting into your beautiful car,

I understood that you had done the right thing.

You can't make a Nobel without breaking eggs Michel!

What are you doing?

Ten years of research that risks being screwed up because of this little civil servant!

He'll take it not to heaven!

Let go of that! Let it go!

What are you waiting for, we're losing it!

It's up to me to get him out of there, Let me do this!

Fucking Cain, what the hell are you trying to prove again?

You're doing it again like six years ago,

you wanted Barth to let you die.

And now he's doing everything he can to send you back into the big black hole.

That's crazy.

I think it's crazy because I need you.

I need you to screw with me for a long time...

Because, that...

it would really piss me off if you stopped pissing me off!

Can you give us a couple of minutes?

I'm right outside the door.

That's twice you've brought me back to life.

Not even Christ managed that winning double.

Deus Ex Machina question, I think I've found my master.

I'm not sure that is a compliment.

Sophie's been paying it.

I know.

But it takes men like us to make

this world go round, no matter what the cost.

Anyway, other innocent victims would have

been sacrificed on the altar of science.

We're just doing our job, Captain.

Even though I can't understand,

why you're relentless after me.

this is your fault.

If you hadn't pestered me six years ago with your sacred sense of life,

even halved, I might have swallowed your euthanasia story.

After the gears,

your pride...

Instead of putting down your arms, you have all driven to hush up the affair

and without my little manipulation,

you would have even covered Sophie's murder.

It is likely, indeed.

And all this, why?

So that one day, people like you can live again normally.

And this day will arrive... Others like us will bring our research to fruition

and you will walk Cain, as I promised you six years ago.

Amen.

Sitting, kneeling, lying...

You could say I would have fooled you in any position.

I don't know if I should thank you,

but if you hadn't talked to me like that.

Do you remember, a few months ago,

after the Inquisitor case?

You came to see me at the clinic.

I was in a coma too, but I'll never forget

what you said to me then.

You should, it was bullshit.

You had told me, and I quote: "I'm warning you Delambre,

if you let go of me to go frolic in the fucking kitchens of hell,

I won't hesitate for a second to put on my fireman's outfit

to pick you up and bring back by the scruff of the neck."

That's what I'm talking about, bullshit.

I'll tell you in my own way.

I've been scared as hell of losing you.

I don't want to lose you.

It's okay, don't take advantage of me a bullshit joke.

But, I don't have any kind of intention to.